


just in case you fall in love with that boy in your chemistry class

by lemon_meringue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Edgeplay, Fluff, Food Sex, Hand Jobs, Hurt Peter Parker, Jealous Bucky Barnes, Lingerie, M/M, No Angst, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Peter might have a mild hair pulling kink now I don't make the rules, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Praise Kink, Precious Peter Parker, Sick Bucky Barnes, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Threesome - M/M/M, how did this end up with so many kinks, nap date, no officer i've never seen a beta before in my life, somehow Peter ended up with a praise kink I'm not sorry, the avengers are all alive and happy and on a high school soccer team together, whipped cream as lube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2019-11-23 06:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18148529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_meringue/pseuds/lemon_meringue
Summary: Peter and Bucky are kids in love. Shenanigans, fluff, and smut abound.[ A collection of mostly unrelated, increasingly (but not totally) chronological drabbles in a Peter Parker/Bucky Barnes high school au. Chapters are generally independent and contain individual summaries, ratings, + warnings/notes.I write 'em as they come. I've got lots planned, but there's no main plot or end goal here. Tags will be updated as I go. Welcome to my trash bin, let's get fucked**also, if anybody has any prompts that'd be sick ]





	1. Nap Date: How The Team Finds Out

**Author's Note:**

> cool so I'm still practicing writing fics (I've only written three as of now n they're Not Great) so sorry about the shitty quality. all of these are hella unbeta'd
> 
> I ship Peter Parker and happiness and that is in fact a defining characteristic of my personality 
> 
> Bucky/Peter is not a popular ship at all but I kinda love it a lot and think its really cute so here we are
> 
> In this au of mine, pretty much all the avengers (and any other mcu or original characters I toss in) are in high school together and predominantly 16-18 years old. Peter's age is unspecified as of right now, but he's a sophomore in American high school, so you've got that. pretty much everyone's parents are alive and well and presumably (mostly non-canonically) good people, except Peter still lives with Aunt May bc I love her. Nothing remotely similar/parallel to canon in terms of winter soldier or civil war or infinity war (or Endgame, fuck that) has happened bc those make me Sad
> 
> Mind the tags
> 
> That all said, welcome to my trash bin. Hope you don't hate it and all that jazz <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What they see, crowding the doorway of Bucky's room, is surprising, to say in the least.  
> Not when Steve thinks about it a bit more, but in the moment, his mouth falls open and his eyes go wide, and beside him, Sam whispers, "Uh, holy shit?" 
> 
> Or, the team goes to Bucky's house, when he's napping, because pie. They're not surprised that he's sleeping when they get there. The small, equally asleep brunette curled up against him is a bit of a shock, though. 
> 
> (written from Steve's perspective bc I think this particular drabble is best presented from an outsider's pov, note most fics will be from Bucky or Peter's viewpoints) 
> 
> rating: mature (language)  
> notes/warnings: basically nothing but cussing and fluff if you squint

_Birdbrain #1: Hey Bcuky your mom said you have pie. We're gonna come over_  
  
_President Barnes: I'm taking a nap_  
  
_Stebe: We'll be quiet_  
  
_President Barnes: Don't come to my house_  
  
_Tony Stank: K we're on our way to your house_  
  
Steve frowns at the messages in the group chat on his phone. Usually Bucky doesn’t care if any of the team comes through his house; it’s kind of odd generally, but normal for them. Everyone loves Bucky's mom, and she'd all but adopted everyone in their friend group. Bucky is more than supportive of this development, too. Before Mrs. Barnes ever met any of his friends, he took them in. Like mother like son, or something; they made everyone family.  
  
Steve thinks it’s kind of weird that Bucky told them not to come over, but on second thought, considering how rambunctious they can be, it isn’t that strange. He said he was napping, after all. And they can be pretty loud. Steve is pulled from his thoughts by Sam poking him in the shoulder.  
  
"You coming?" He asks, gesturing behind them where the rest of their soccer team, self titled the "Avengers", are piling into Thor's van. Without looking, Steve already knows Tony is trying to convince Thor to let him drive. Most likely, Bruce is sitting in the back, and Natasha is climbing in next to him. Christ knows what the hell Steve sees, in the corner of his eye, Clint trying to do with the middle seat.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Steve says, tucking his phone into his pocket. He follows Sam to the van, hauling himself into the seat behind Thor.  
  
"... always. What kind did she make?" Steve hears Tony saying.  
  
"A couple, I think. Check my phone. She texted them to me," Thor answers, putting the van into gear and pulling away from the curb. Steve watches Tony take Thor's phone and unlock it, scrolling through his messages.  
  
"Oh shit, dude, she made blueberry and peach. I fuckin' love blueberry," Tony exclaims, flashing a shamelessly excited grin back at Steve and Sam in the seats behind him.  
  
"I swear to god, Tony, if you eat like five pieces again I'm going to stab you," Clint says from the back, smirking.  
  
"Ok, that was one time, I was super hungry, and it was really good, alright? Live and let live, birdbrain." Tony huffs, adjusting his sunglasses and facing forward. Steve laughs, leaning up and clapping his shoulder.  
  
"You inhaled that thing, Tones. Straight up inhaled half a pie. No one is ever going to forget that, buddy."  
  
"Let me move on."  
  
"Not a chance," Sam smiles, reaching over the headrest to frantically ruffle Tony's hair before Tony whipps around and barely misses decking Sam's shoulder.  
  
Some shouting and almost running the van into the ditch ( _"_ _Stop bumping my arm, Stark! We're gonna-- FUCKING HELL!"_ ) later, the team pulls into the Barnes family driveway.  
  
Stepping out of the van, Clint flips his hood up and sticks his tongue out at Steve, so Steve flicks his chin. Clint swats his arm, much to Natasha's amusement, who pulls Clint's hood down and runs off before he can catch her.  
  
They knock only once, like they always do, just to warn Mrs. Barnes that they’re coming in. She pokes her head into the hallway as they enter, one mass of teenagers with too much energy, and smiles at them.  
  
"Hey kids! Just about to pull the pies out, they'll be ready in a sec. I hope you're hungry, 'cause I've got a lot." She grins, slipping an oven mitt decorated like a refrigerator door over her hand.  
  
A chorus of 'Thanks Mrs. Barnes' and 'Thank you Winnie!' erupts from the horde as they slip off their shoes.  
  
"Bucky's upstairs with his friend now, if you want to say hi," Bucky's mom calls absentmindedly, disappearing back into the kitchen.  
  
A wave of confusion and curiosity sweeps over the group of teens. _Friend_? Bucky's friend? Why did he tell them he's napping if he's hanging out with someone else? Does he not want them to know?  
  
One off-handed comment from Mrs. Barnes and the entire air of the visit changes. Questions stir and the Avengers make the collective, silent decision to go up the steps in front of them. Steve leads the way, his brow furrowed and his lips a tight line.

 _What is Bucky hiding?_  
  
He knocks softly on his friend’s door, calling Bucky's name quietly. In case he really is asleep, maybe. When there’s no answer, a shared look with Bruce has Steve turning the handle and opening the door.  
  
What they see, crowding the doorway of Bucky's room, is surprising, to say in the least. Not when Steve thinks about it a bit more, but in the moment, his mouth falls open and his eyes go wide, and beside him, Sam whispers, "Uh, holy shit?"  
  
Bucky is laying in his bed, blankets thrown about, mostly covering him from the waist down. His t-shirt is ruffled up and his long hair is splayed and he looks completely content in his sleep. He appears so peaceful and relaxed that the small brunette curled against him seems completely natural.  
  
It takes him a moment, but Steve recognizes the kid.  
  
Peter Parker.  
  
A year or two younger than them, Steve isn’t entirely sure; he’s in all the most advanced classes. A genius, for sure, but shy beyond imagination. Kid mostly swamps himself in baggy hoodies and sweaters, sticking to the shadows and the corners as much as he can, avoiding attention like the plague. Steve still notices him, of course. Be it his obviously genius intellect or when one member of his small friend group, usually a girl named Gwen Stacy, draws momentary attention to them by laughing loudly, Steve definitely sees the kid. A mop of (if Steve’s being honest, _pretty_ ) chestnut brown hair on his head, big doe brown eyes, milky skin, and despite the oversized clothes he wears, skinny and so very, very _small_.  
  
He looks even smaller there, in Bucky's bed, tucked against Bucky's chest, with Bucky's arm thrown casually around him. He’s wearing a t-shirt, something Steve has probably never seen before (he really is always in a big hoodie, huh), and it’s riding up his back. His hair is tossed, or maybe brushed (by Bucky's fingers? What the fuck?) back from his forehead, and he looks...  
  
Cute?  
  
Definitely more relaxed than Steve has ever seen. Not that he has a lot to compare to, but the kid is anxious, especially at school; that much is easy to see.  
  
Thor is the first person to compose himself and overcome the initial shock.  
  
He clears his throat loudly, and Steve holds his breath. What exactly are any of them supposed to say in this situation? He thinks his palms might be getting sweaty. Is Bucky going to be mad? And what’s Peter’s reaction going to be?  
  
The smaller boy stirs and a soft sound might come from him, Steve isn’t sure, but he turns his head and buries his face more into Bucky's chest and shoulder.  
  
Bucky, however, heaves a deep breath and slowly opens sleepy eyes. He looks at Steve first, then takes in the fact that pretty much all of his friends are standing in his doorway and sighs again.  
  
Whatever Steve is expecting, it isn’t for Bucky to pull Peter tighter against himself and look up at them without re-opening his eyes, mouthing 'downstairs'.  
  
Steve nods, he doesn’t know why (not like Buck can see him with his eyes closed), and turns around to leave. He grabs Sam's sleeve on his way out, who is still gaping at the scene before them.  
  
Natasha leads the way back downstairs and they pile at the landing, no one sure how to bring up discussing what they've just seen. Then Mrs. Barnes comes out of the kitchen, dusting off her hands. The oven mitts are gone, Steve notes.  
  
"Did you see them? Were they still sleeping?" She asks, a grin on her face telling Steve she knows exactly what she'd just set up.  
  
"Yeah," Bruce croaks, looking dazed. Bucky's mom smiles.  
  
"I think they're cute. Peter's a sweetheart, I swear, I don't know how Bucky ever managed to ask him on a date," she laughs, turning back to the kitchen. "Pies are ready when you are, kiddos."  
  
Steve swallows hard. _Date? Ask him on a date_? Since when was Bucky taking Peter Parker on dates? How long has this been going on? What? What the actual fuck?  
  
They know Bucky is gay, or bi, at least. A lot of them were (or pan, in both Natasha and Thor's cases). There’s no surprise at all (god forbid _problem_ ) that he has a boy in his bed. But Steve, and assumably all of their friends, had no idea he even liked Peter, let alone was taking the kid on _dates_. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, and maybe it’s not, maybe it’s just the shock of how they found out, but Steve feels something tight in his throat. Why didn’t Bucky tell them? Or at least Steve, of all people. They’re best friends. Steve shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. And then something strikes him.  
  
Then again, maybe he did know.  
  
Not about the dates, definitely, but now that he thinks about it.  
  
More often than not, any time Steve had noticed Peter, he was following Bucky's gaze. His friend seemed stare at the underclassmen all the time, now that Steve is mulling over it. For a while, actually. More than a month, for sure. Bucky stared at Peter all the time. He talked about him, too. Quietly, briefly mentioned something Peter was doing or had done, something he said, even commented about the sweater he was wearing. Steve can’t count how many times Bucky had marveled over Peter's intelligence or fondly acknowledged the boy wearing a new hoodie, more to himself than anyone else. God, Steve can’t believe himself. Bucky has been practically making heart eyes at this kid for weeks, and Steve hasn't even noticed.  
  
He mentally face palms himself as he follows the rest of his dazed friends into the kitchen.  
  
Mrs. Barnes serves up slices of pie for them, chatting idly with a pep in her step like dropping bomb shells on all of her son's friends is a win in her book.  
  
Seated at the table, Bucky's mother humming to herself and leaving with a comment about a book she wants to finish, the so-called Avengers eat silently, in varying states of shock.  
  
"So." Thor says finally, backing away from half eaten pie.  
  
"So." Natasha continues, nudging a blueberry with her fork. Steve cringes at the sound it makes when the utensil slips from the fruit and scrapes the plate.  
  
"That's Peter Parker, right? Sophomore, I think?" Tony offers, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable.  
  
"Yeah, that's Peter." Steve confirms.  
  
This. This feels like the least fun conversation they’ve had in a while.  
  
"Yeah, and he's still sleeping, so keep it down, alright?" Bucky says from the doorway, joggers wrinkled and rubbing the sleep from one of his eyes. He plops into the open chair between Bruce and Clint, taking Clint's fork and stealing a bite of his peach pie. Clint stares at him for a solid ten seconds, blinking dumbly, before snatching his fork back and saying exactly what they’re all thinking.  
  
"What the fuck, dude? Since when are you and Parker a thing?"  
  
Bucky sighs, rolling his eyes and leaning back in the chair. Steve watches him carefully, studying for anything that might give away what he’s actually thinking under the mask of exasperation.  
  
"Hmm, a week or two, now? I think? I'm not sure, man. Not that long."  
  
Tony narrows his eyes. "Why didn't you tell us? What gives, Barnes?"

That’s what Steve wants to know, too.  
  
"I don't know. I just, he, _we_  weren't ready, I guess. To tell anyone. He didn't tell his friends, either. I think my mom and his aunt were the only people who knew until, ya know," Bucky shrugs, gesturing to the table.  
  
"Weren't ready?" Natasha prompts, because they are his friends and that's usually the kind of thing friends tell each other.  
  
"Yeah. Something like that. Nothing against you guys at all, it was just. It was nice, just between us. Peaceful. Besides," Bucky pauses, glaring daggers into Bruce. " _Some_  people can't keep their mouths shut and Peter's not out yet, to people other than his friends and stuff. He wasn't ready for the whole goddamn school to know." He pauses again, leaning forward and making eye contact with everyone before settling on Steve. Steve feels the link between them, feels anchored to Bucky. Whatever Bucky is about to say, Steve feels it in his core that he’ll be behind him 100%. "And no one will, until he is ready. Right?"  
  
If they didn’t know Bucky, they'd take it as a threat. But they do know him. Steve knows what that look means, what he’s saying. Bucky is asking them, trusting them to keep this secret. Trusting them to have his back, and now, Peter's. It isn’t like there’s even a decision to be made.  
  
"Of course." Thor says. And that’s it. They all mean it. Bucky cracks a grin in the corner of his mouth, leaning back again.  
  
"Cool. Now that you know I'm dating Parker, though I'll admit it's not really how I imagined you finding out, I'm going back to sleep." He stands up, pushing the chair in and walking to the kitchen doorway. When he stops to look at them, he’s smirking the way only Bucky can and Steve feels something like warm solidarity in his chest.  
  
"There's a cute boy in my bed, and I'd hate for him to get cold." He winks at Sam, who sticks out his tongue and makes a face, before disappearing. Leaving the rest of the friends to their pie and their thoughts and their strange sense of understanding.  
  
Steve’s a little shaken, of course, because he walked in on his best friend's surprise nap date a few minutes ago and that's not something easily steadied. But. He understands. Bucky, even just his reassured presence, has a way with things like that.  
  
He says things with a professional tone of nonchalance, but genuinely means every word.  
  
It was nothing against his friends, just dwelling in the sweetness of a private relationship. They understand that. Steve understands that.  
  
There isn’t any questioning of that variety, anymore, only the aftershocks of the unconventional way they found out.

He’s grateful that the last ten minutes of confusion and that emotion dangerously close to betrayal are over and gone. It makes a lot of sense. They are a bunch of over-excited loose-lips, truth be told. There’s no way they would’ve kept Bucky and Peter a secret, and they all (read: mostly Clint) would’ve been giving the pair a lot of playful, loving shit. In hindsight, Steve’s actually glad Bucky didn’t tell them. He and Peter, they deserve that short time of peace.

  
Steve takes another bite of pie. It’s sweet. Thinking of how his best friend had sauntered off back to his nap, how he’s upstairs now, cuddling a small boy with big eyes who probably looks at him like he’s the whole world, how completely different and perfect they probably are for each other, Steve leans back in his chair.  
  
Bucky is dating Peter Parker, now.  
  
This.  
  
This is going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boi that was the shortest and shittiest thing Ever. I'm So Sorry I butchered the execution of this concept but I had the idea of the rest of the Avengers finding out by walking in on a nap date and I wanted to write it out, + thought it should probably come first so. Here it be. Fuck me right the fuck up


	2. Over-Sensitive Peter pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is too sensitive to finish himself. Bucky helps. 
> 
> rating: explicit  
> notes/warnings: sexual content, oral + hand jobs, orgasm control, come swallowing. Peter's kinda insecure and anxious in this but Bucky is Supportive and Helpful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're jumping right into the pwp now bc I can't write plots or real fics. Again, there's no specific order to these chapters, this is all just stuff that occurs in this au. 
> 
> The concept for this fic came from thinking about Peter's senses being 'dialed up to 11' after the spider. This is a non-powered au though n I'm well aware this is basically ridiculously unrealistic but it's fanfiction porn, babes, it doesn't have to be realistic
> 
> Sorry about my garbage writing, let's get wrecked

Peter isn't exactly sure how they got in this position.   
  
One minute they're laying on the grass in the park, sharing a bag of pretzels, pointing out weirdly shaped clouds and telling each other, 'that's you,' and the next, Peter's on his back, in his bed, with Bucky kneeling between his legs.   
  
Being the weekend, they'd been hanging out all day. They'd started with a lunch date to Bucky's favorite backstreet parlor, then seen an afternoon movie, and had been walking around the city, enjoying the view and each other's company. Light banter about whether pineapple belongs on pizza, a deep philosophical discussion about the origins of puns, and Peter attempting to convince Bucky that Tony is not a ‘dickwad’ made the day fly past. And then, because of who Bucky is as a person, Peter supposes, they'd ended up talking about. Other things.   
  
Like fucking, for example. (Which they haven’t done together, yet, or at all in Peter’s case, but are both very open to the prospect of eventually doing).   
  
Like Peter accidentally, casually mentioning that he's only ever been able to orgasm a couple of times before.   
  
To which Bucky'd responded by jerking to a stop, catching Peter's arm and whipping them both off the sidewalk, staring at Peter with a shocked expression.   
  
"Hold on hold on hold the fuck on, what?"   
  
And then Peter had to explain to Bucky, face flushed red and avoiding eye contact, that he'd only ever climaxed a couple times in his life. He's too sensitive, he supposed, and always got too overwhelmed and had to stop. So he basically stopped trying.   
  
Buck had just stared at him with his mouth open for a few seconds before shaking his head and pulling Peter under his arm.   
  
"We're gonna have to work on that, babe," he'd said, smirking and kissing the side of Peter's head. Peter had lifted his head up, gone to his top-toes and kissed Bucky's cheek with a shy smile.   
  
And that had been that, done and over.   
  
Or, Peter thought it was.   
  
They got back to Peter's apartment and Aunt May was working late, so they'd made soup and played Monopoly for a while before turning on some random tv show that Peter didn't recognize. He didn't pay much attention, though, because Bucky's hand was on his thigh and the older boy was laying slow, soft kisses on his cheek.   
  
"So how often have you tried?" Bucky asks quietly, nipping Peter's earlobe. Peter takes in a sharp breath and bites his lip, squirming on the couch.   
  
"Hm?" He hums, slightly confused but more distracted than anything, because Bucky's hand keeps moving higher on his thigh.   
  
"You've only come a couple times before, but how often did you try? Before you gave up?" Bucky elaborates and Peter can feel him smiling against his temple, Bucky's nose taking in the scent of Peter's hair.   
  
"Um, I, I don't, I don't know--" The younger boy tries, feeling words getting stuck in his throat. Either Bucky's an asshole or a tease or both but Peter is getting really hard, really fast.   
  
"A lot?" Bucky prompts, smirking. Peter wants to sass him for the smugness but it's hard for him to think of real words now because Bucky's hand is rubbing circles over the joint between his crotch and thigh, brushing gently over the top of his jeans.   
  
Peter closes his eyes and tries not to whine. "A-a lot," he agrees, swallowing hard. Bucky kisses his cheek again and pulls away and Peter kind of wants to cry, but then Bucky's moving the blanket off them and grabbing Peter's wrists, pulling him to his feet.   
  
"I think," the older begins, putting his hands around Peter's waist. "I'd be pretty cruel not to help out, right?"   
  
Peter bites his bottom lip hard to keep from whimpering and nods his head, whispering out a broken, "Bucky-"   
  
Bucky kisses him gently, moving them together, walking them back to Peter's room. "Sh, baby, I've got you. I've got you."   
  
Peter holds onto Bucky's shirt tightly, only distantly aware that he's physically shaking now. Being held against each other, Peter would be morbidly embarrassed about how hard he is if he couldn't feel Bucky's own hard-on pressing into his stomach.   
  
Bucky opens the younger teen's door behind them and they practically fall into Peter's room. The smaller boy yelps when they trip onto the bed, which just makes Bucky laugh. Peter narrows his eyes at him, so Bucky kisses him, licking his bottom lip.   
  
"You're so cute," the older coos, kissing Peter's nose, cheeks and forehead. In a stark contrast to the playful, loving way he's acting, one of his hands is openly cupping Peter's hard-on now, massaging him through the denim. Peter can't hold back the whine this time, cutting himself off by trying to swallow the lump in his throat.   
  
"B-Bucky, I, I don't," Peter can't even think straight at this point, clinging to Bucky's shoulders. He has no idea how the older boy is so good at this, so confident in their position when he's still a high schooler himself. Peter vaguely wonders, somewhere in the back of his mind, how many people Bucky's been with, but he can't think about it for long because Bucky's mouth moves to his neck and his hands are working the smaller's shirt off.   
  
"I know, doll, I'll take care of you," Bucky says and, oh wow, Peter has never heard his voice that deep. He kisses the smaller teen lightly, before pulling back to remove his own shirt.   
  
They've done similar things before, made out, made out shirtless, gotten handsy plenty of times. But they'd never gone this far, never with the intent they obviously have now. Peter likes to move slow, and Bucky respects that. He wants this, though, wants what Bucky's giving him.   
  
Nevertheless, the older teen backs off when his hands reach Peter's jeans, thumbs rubbing soft circles into Peter's hips. "How do you feel, Petey? You wanna do this?" Bucky asks, and Peter's heart kind of swells up because even though it's just the decent human thing to do, checking in, and even though Bucky in particular does it religiously, it still makes Peter feel. Loved.   
  
Peter nods, giving Bucky the most reassuring smile he can when he feels like he's on fire with how badly he wants the older boy's hands in his pants.   
  
Bucky smiles back at him, a sweet, toothy grin, and drops his mouth to Peter's bare chest, licking one of his nipples to hardness. Peter squeaks and blushes bright pink, grateful for the dim light of his room, moving one hand to his mouth to muffle a moan. He feels Bucky smirking against his skin, and then strong hands are pulling his jeans and boxers down his legs.   
  
Peter's hard-on stands straight against his stomach once it's freed, flushed a soft red, the head gleaming with leaking precome. Bucky pulls away from Peter to look down at him. When Peter manages to open his eyes, he sees Bucky studying his body, eyes lingering over every inch of smooth, creamy skin. The smaller teen would find it embarrassing, and he does squirm a little bit under his lover's gaze, but there's something fond and similar to awe in Bucky's expression that makes him feel warm all over.   
  
"Buckyyy," Peter whispers, wriggling with the weight of the older's eyes on him and an embarrassingly intense need for _something_ , anything. His cock aches and he feels the precome pooling on his stomach. Bucky finally looks back up at him, meeting his eyes and without warning drops down to kiss him fiercely.   
  
Peter moans into the kiss and _feels_  when Bucky groans against his lips, licking into the younger's mouth. One of Bucky's hands holds him up over Peter and the other reaches down between them. He gently takes a hold of Peter's shaft, making his small boyfriend gasp.   
  
_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_.   
  
Peter officially loses control of his body when Bucky's thumb swipes across his slit, smearing the precome over the tip and down. He starts out with agonizingly slow strokes, pumping Peter's length, flicking his wrist to rub over the head, using Peter's precome as lube until his entire cock is red and gleaming with wet need and Peter is whimpering and bucking his hips.   
  
There are tears budding in the small boy's chocolate brown eyes, one hand trying (unsuccessfully) to muffle his own sounds, the other tangled in Bucky's hair when he arches his back suddenly. A feeling Peter is far too used to washes over his body and the urge to curl up and convulse overwhelms him.   
  
"Ah-oh, B-Bucky, w-wait, n-no, I, I can't, I," Peter can barely get the words out, his hands moving to push against Bucky's shoulders. The older boy pulls back immediately, looking at Peter with concern.   
  
Peter squeezes his eyes closed and breathes heavy, biting his lip and gripping Bucky's shoulders tightly. His entire body feels hot but his cock is on fire and he wants to cry with the need to come but it feels like he might actually explode if he gets any closer. And not in the relieving way he wants to. He's shaking and trying to even out his breathing when he finally opens his eyes, looking up at Bucky.   
  
He's gotta say, he figured he'd find the initial expression of apologetic worry and sympathy. He wasn't expecting the smirk. Peter releases his lip from the bite and swallows hard, trying to figure out what the hell Bucky's thinking that's making him look at Peter like the boy is a literal snack.   
  
"That how it usually goes?" Bucky asks, his lopsided grin flashing sparkly canines. Peter wants to roll his eyes but he doesn't think he's physically capable of that at this point.   
  
"Something," he pauses to wet his lips, "Something like that." Bucky chuckles a little, pecking Peter's nose.   
  
"You're really cute," he says, moving his lips to the younger boy's cheeks. "And really hot," then his lips are on Peter's for a sweet moment, speaking against Peter's mouth when he says, "And I'm gonna make you come."   
  
Peter almost does just that, right then and there, because oh holy shit, that is the hottest thing he's ever heard. Bucky is the hottest human being in the world. The older teen brings his hand up, evidently the one that had been jerking off Peter, and makes room between their faces for him to lock eyes with the younger boy and _lick_  it. Peter's torn between Bucky's eyes and how his tongue looks cleaning Peter's precome off his palm and fingers.   
  
"Please," Peter says, though he's not sure what he's asking for. Bucky understands, though, of course he does. He kisses Peter again and for a second, the smaller boy can taste his own precome, before the older teen is moving down until he's kneeling between Peter's legs.   
  
"I'm gonna try something else, ok?" He says, and Peter nods because if he's being honest, he trusts Bucky completely. Bucky smiles reassuringly at him, laying a kiss to Peter's taut tummy, lapping up the sticky pool of precome from his skin. And then he takes the head of Peter's cock in his mouth.   
  
Peter chokes on a gasp and _keens_ , a high and needy sound that wrecks its way out of his throat. He uses all the control he has to keep his hips from bucking up, and Bucky puts his hands on Peter's thin waist, holding him down.   
  
The older teen pulls off with a wet sound and licks along Peter's slit, tonguing at the sensitive opening, making Peter clap both of his hands over his mouth to muffle the loud, high pitched cries coming out of him. His body shakes as Bucky teases him, and he feels lightheaded with the effort it takes him to keep as quiet and still as possible. It only lasts a moment, though, before Bucky's pulling his wrists down and pinning them to his stomach with one hand, the other going back to his hip, both effectively holding Peter's waist down and leaving nothing to muffle his sounds.   
  
"I wanna hear you, sweetheart. Come on, make those sounds again," Bucky all but growls, before taking all of Peter's length in one go. Peter can't stop himself from yelping, the sound morphing into a long moan. His blush has spread from his face down his neck and chest, making him flush dark with embarrassment from how high pitched and needy the sounds pouring out of him are. He vaguely feels himself crying, overwhelmed by the hot, wet sensation of being inside Bucky's mouth.   
  
It's different from anything he's ever felt before, different from his own hand or Bucky's earlier. The heat skyrockets and he feels it gathering heavily in his belly, a feeling he's rarely experienced. His heart is beating out of his chest and he can't even hear himself anymore, can't hear the (rather feminine sounding) moans rolling out of his mouth.   
  
Bucky's doing things with his tongue that Peter never could've imagined feeling between his legs, and he tugs at his wrists, but Bucky doesn't let go. It's..   
  
Hotter than Peter would like to admit.   
  
"Bucky, I, I'm," he can't think straight and everything looks funny. So he squeezes his eyes tight and loses himself to the heat washing over him, budding inside him. Bucky pulls off for a second to grin, letting a large drop of mixed saliva and precome drip from his mouth and run down Peter's shaft.   
  
"I know, baby. You're doing great, you're doing so good. Just let go for me, angel, I've got you," He coos, dropping back down to Peter's cock. Peter keens again, but it breaks in his chest and he falls into a panting mess. Bucky must like the way Peter's reacting, because he moans, and Peter feels it rumble and vibrate through his cock.   
  
Peter's head falls back against the mattress and he lets out a shrill moan that's closer to a scream than anything else. He feels the hot, tightness in his stomach reaching its peak. His blood boils and everything feels hot and tense and his back arches high. His cock throbs and pulses and then he's coming; his first proper orgasm, not ruined by overstimulation forcing him to stop at the wrong time. He feels his own come pooling into Bucky's mouth and his boyfriend doesn't back away at all, taking it all in.   
  
Peter empties his come in a forceful stream, everything tense and intense and _bliss_. After Bucky pulls away, he lays there for a moment, just breathing, before he opens his eyes. When he does, he sees Bucky watching him with hazy eyes and a fucking _smirk_. Peter doesn't get to wonder why he looks so smug before Bucky slowly swallows. Peter watches with parted lips as the lump in his boyfriend’s throat goes down, his eyes training momentarily on the streak of come and saliva dribbling out of the corner of Bucky's mouth.   
  
Bucky licks his lips and in a second he releases Peter's wrists, planting both of his hands beside Peter's head to hold himself above the smaller boy, dropping to kiss him. Conflicting to the intensity of the motion, the kiss is soft and gentle, and Peter can taste his release on Bucky's tongue.   
  
When they break apart, Bucky's smiling down at him.   
  
"How do you feel, sweetheart?" He asks softly. Peter sighs contentedly, still working on catching his breath.   
  
"G... good. Y-yeah, good," Peter works out, trying to correct his brain. "Really good, thank, thank you, for that," he stumbles over the words, suddenly feeling the weight of his impending embarrassment. God, oh _shit_ , he'd been so lost in everything, and he's laying there naked and flushed and all worked up and Bucky is completely composed, oh shit, he-   
  
"Hey, hey, Petey, shh, you're alright. You did so good, doll. So good," Bucky cuts off his thoughts, no doubt seeing the bubbling panic on Peter's face. "Don't thank me, babe. I fucking loved that." He kisses Peter softly again, one hand running soothingly over his belly and chest.   
  
"I think I sounded like I was dying," Peter says, eyes closed and blushing again already. He hears Bucky chuckle above him.   
  
"No, you sounded like you were getting a blow job, and it was hot as fuck. You're so hot, Pete, you’re sexy as hell and adorable at the same time, it drives me crazy." He kisses Peter's chin. "You drive me crazy."   
  
Peter gives him a soft smile and lifts his head to press his lips gently against Bucky's. The older teen deepens the kiss, licking into Peter's mouth and before kissing his jaw. It's then that Peter notices the tent in Bucky's jeans, still hard against Peter's leg. He swallows nervously, unsure of how to articulate himself right now.   
  
"You're, you're still... um, do, do you want me to...?" He trails off, not knowing what to say. Bucky glances down between them and chuckles lightly, kissing Peter again.   
  
"It’s alright, I'm good. We did a lot today, yeah? We don't have to go any further until you're comfortable with it." Bucky massages his thumb around the bottom of Peter's ribs as he speaks. The younger boy finds it oddly soothing.   
  
"Do you want to, though? Because if you want to, I, I want to," Peter swallows and blinks a couple times, trying to work up the courage to say what he wanted to say. Bucky's mutual consent is really important right now, especially because Peter worries that despite what he's said he'll be deterred by seeing what Peter's like in a more intimate way, and because he does genuinely want to return the favor. He's nervous as hell, of course, and has no idea what he's doing, but Bucky made him feel good. Really, really good. Just gave him one of the few climaxes he's ever had and the only satisfying one _ever_. He wants Bucky too feel good, too. So he continues and tells him as much.   
  
Bucky grins down at Peter, nuzzling his nose and his neck, kissing the top of his shoulder. "You're precious, you know that? You're a sweetheart." He nibbles on Peter's collarbone for a few seconds before going on. "I would love to have your hand or your mouth on me, angel, but remember? We can move as slow as you want. If you're not ready, this," he pauses to grind slightly against Peter's leg, which, ok, Peter kind of really likes, "can wait."   
  
Peter shifts under Bucky and thinks it over for a few seconds. He takes a short while to honestly discern between how much he wants to please Bucky and how much he's actually ready to give a hand or blow job, and realizes that yeah. He is ready.   
  
"If you tell me what to do," he starts, blushing and licking his lips, "I'm ready."   
  
If anything, Bucky seems endeared by Peter's nervousness and excited by the notion. He kisses along Peter's collar bones and back up his neck, nipping his jaw.   
  
"If you're sure?" He inquires one more time. It makes Peter feel good things in his chest. He nods.   
  
"Maybe use your hand this time? Not to brag or anything, but I'm not sure you could handle my dick in your mouth right now." Bucky smirks, and Peter giggles at him a little, then nods again.   
  
Bucky falls onto his side next to Peter, bringing the smaller teen with him so they face each other. He shimmies out of his pants with quick accuracy and Peter's jaw almost drops. A teenager should _not_ be as fucking big as Bucky is. Granted, Peter really only has his own to carefully compare to, but he thinks Bucky's cock has got to be massive in anyone's terms. It's long and thick and Peter takes a sharp breath at the way it bounces up to attention against Bucky's stomach and the sheets of the bed.   
  
Peter looks to Bucky, then back down, reaching out towards him. Bucky carefully takes Peter's wrist, gently guiding him down. He covers Peter's hand with his own, wrapping both around his shaft. Peter lets out a shaky breath at how Bucky feels in his hand. Hot and sticky with precome. Peter bites his lip and let's Bucky guide his hand to a slow stroke. Eventually they work up the pace, Bucky moaning lowly into Peter's ear.   
  
When Bucky's hold over Peter's hand loosens further, Peter tries doing what Bucky did to him, flicking his wrist and dragging his palm over Bucky's tip. The older boy groans, a wrecked sound, and it spurs Peter on. He gets an idea and hopes Bucky will like it.   
  
In a flash, he releases Bucky's shaft, crawling down and over, sitting on his legs between Bucky's thighs.   
  
"Is this ok?" He asks quietly, biting his lip. Bucky looks at him, mouth open, breathing heavy and gives him a jerky nod.   
  
"What-whatever you want, baby," the older boy says, sounding beyond turned on. Peter smiles at him, a wide grin, and Bucky would later tell him that he had no business looking so sweet and innocent and _cute_  in that moment, with what they were about to do.   
  
With that confirmation, Peter licks his lips and take's Bucky's cock in his hand again. He pumps it a few times, squeezing as tight as Bucky had him before, and then bends over. He licks the top of Bucky's length and the older boy shudders, moaning. Peter takes it as encouragement and licks again, lapping at the precome that leaks from Bucky's tip, continuing to pump as he goes. After a while, he takes a deep breath and wraps his mouth around the head of Bucky's cock.   
  
He has absolutely no idea what he's doing but he does know the last thing he wants is to hurt Bucky, do he opens his mouth as wide as he can and covers his teeth with his lips, hoping he's doing _something_  right. Bucky doesn't seem to mind, bucking slightly into Peter's mouth so that the entire head rests on Peter's tongue. After a bit of situating, Peter starts to suck, letting the saliva leak from his mouth and down Bucky's cock to help smooth the glide of his hand.   
  
He picks up his pace, encouraged by the moans Bucky makes. He pumps faster and tries to swirl his tongue around, nudging briefly at the slit, only for Bucky to jerk his hips further into Peter's mouth. Peter goes as long as he can (though he's not sure how long that is. Time isn't real now) and is starting to feel the ache in his jaw when Bucky groans.   
  
"Pete, I'm, I'm gonna come, babe," is all Peter hears, bracing himself, before his mouth is flooded. Bucky's hand is in his hair and tightens slightly, hot come shooting into Peter's mouth. He chokes on it, taking as much as he can before he pulls away. He keeps pumping, though, milking Bucky's orgasm the way he knows he's supposed to (even if he never got to that point with himself). Come sprays onto him and gets on his face and torso, but Peter doesn't care. He made Bucky come. Pride wells up in him and he hopes he did good.   
  
Bucky lays there for a while, catching his breath, before sitting up, looking at Peter with hooded eyes and a gentle smirk. Bucky always smirks, Peter thinks. It's sexy as hell.   
  
Peter swallows and smiles a small grin at him, hoping he doesn't look like too much of a mess with tousled hair, a stream of Bucky's white release coming from the corner of his mouth, beads on his lips, streaks on his cheek and neck and chest. He clears his throat and licks the sticky, salty come off his lips, squeaking when Bucky suddenly grabs his waist and hauls him up.   
  
Peter's legs cage Bucky's stomach and the older sits up, kissing him hard. Peter takes it and kisses back with equal intensity, letting Bucky's tongue clean his mouth of come. When Bucky breaks the kiss, he licks Peter's check, tasting away the remnants of his climax from Peter's skin. He cleans him with his tongue until all the come is gone and Peter's shaking again, clutching Bucky's shoulders. The older, head already ducked down to Peter's chest, licks his nipples, kissing the pink nubs and teasing them with his teeth until they're swollen and Peter can't hold back a whimper.   
  
"Hey Peter," Bucky begins.   
  
"Hm?"   
  
"You're hard again." Peter can _hear_  the self-satisfied grin in his boyfriend's voice. He's right, too. Peter's cock is hard between their stomachs, already starting to leak again.   
  
Peter? He'd be a liar if he said he didn't want to come again. And again. And again. He'd only had one good orgasm in his entire life, merely a few in total. And the person who can make him feel so safe and happy and  _good_ is right there, making suggestive comments, kissing him sweetly. And, hell, they're teenage boys with basically no refractory period and they're just getting a taste for each other, and Peter. He wants it.   
  
And Bucky? He'd be a liar if he said after just one evening he isn't completely, entirely addicted to the boy in his lap. The sounds he makes and the way he looks, how he blushes and moans when Bucky gives him what he can't get from anyone else. He wants to make the beautiful boy he’s currently kissing come again and again and again. All the time, constantly. Tonight, tomorrow, wants to make him come over and over until he's crying and then do it again the next day. He wants it.   
  
"Bucky," Peter whispers.   
  
"Think you can handle another one?" Bucky asks, not because he worried the answer will be 'no', but because he knows the answer is an enthusiastic (read: desperate) 'yes, please' and is a goddamn tease. Peter groans and presses their foreheads together, opening his eyes to see Bucky's hands between them, massaging his hips. One rubs his inner thigh and the other ventures to cup his ass, both deliberately avoiding touching his cock until he tells Bucky what the older boy wants to hear. Peter whimpers quietly and closes his eyes.   
  
"Yes, God yes, please, please,"   
  
And Bucky, shit. Bucky couldn't say no to that if he wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is filthy and I'd say I'm sorry but I'd probably be lying. Constructive criticism always welcome. Thanks and love, babes


	3. Over-Sensitive Peter pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's in a pissy mood. Bucky takes advantage of his over-sensitive predicament to fix it. 
> 
> Or, Bucky's kind of an asshole for a while there, but only to help. 
> 
> rating: explicit (sexual content)  
> notes/warnings: orgasm delay, edging, anal fingering, mentioned anal sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another sensitive Peter fic bc I'm into this concept a bit too much. Bucky is lowkey daddy material in this fic, which is a rough thing to say of a high schooler. Also, mentioned of potential future kink exploration? Bucky likes what he's doing more than he thought he would. 
> 
> More pwp bc that's all I write!!! Have a time, lots of love, please don't hate this sin <3

Peter's been in a mood.   
  
A moody mood.   
  
He's been more sassy and sarcastic than usual, and not in the playful way he usually is. Bucky doesn't know how many times his boyfriend rolled his eyes or scoffed the last three days. He's been outright pissy. But he's also been distant and more reserved, staring off out the window or at his shoes more than he typically would. He's been in his head almost entirely, and when he hasn't been, he's been crabby and irritated.    
  
Considering how sweet Peter always is, Bucky's taking the hint and getting worried.    
  
He's tried to get Peter to talk to him as gently as possible. Prompting him with caution, only to be shot down with apologetic agitation. Which tells Bucky that Peter is well aware he's being moody, and feels guilty about it (as he, the overly pure-hearted angel who thinks its a crime for him to have a bad day would), but can't seem to stop.    
  
And that only makes Bucky more concerned.   
  
He's not without plans, though. He kissed Peter's nose and dragged his attention back to the conversation he'd zoned out of (one of science talk with Bruce, Tony, and Ned that he typically would've been completely invested in) to tell him he's cute. Peter had blushed at him and given a forced smile, then zoned right back out.    
  
Later, Bucky had offered Peter another cookie with lunch. Peter loves cookies. Unfortunately, not only had Peter politely declined the treat, but he'd barely eaten anything at all.    
  
After school, Peter had wanted to go straight home. Bucky took advantage of Peter's frankly timid personality to allow them the scenic drive; giving him the opportunity to point out a new sci-fi movie in a theater, offering to go see it. Peter had brushed him off with a half-hearted 'no thanks' and returned to staring out the window.   
  
Bucky knows everyone has bad days. And Peter, precious, ray of sunshine Peter, would be no exception to that. He isn't expecting Peter to always be on a great mood, and he hopes Peter wouldn't try to pretend everything's ok. But every time Bucky has asked what was wrong or if Peter was ok, he'd insist everything was fine. And that's the biggest problem. Not that Peter's having a bad few days; that he's trying to cover it up and won't let anyone help, despite being so obviously unhappy.    
  
Now, May Parker had texted Bucky that she was working a late shift and noticed Peter seeming off for a while, asking if maybe Bucky could stay with him? So here they are, sitting in Bucky's living room, Peter curled up against Bucky's side, arms wrapped around him, almost in Bucky's lap. One of the Jurassic Park movies is playing, Bucky doesn't know which one. He isn't paying attention. All his focus is on the small boy burrowed under the blankets.    
  
First, he'd been moody and distant for half the week. And now he's acting starved for affection. Sure, they as a couple are always a little more touchy feely. They shamelessly relish in physical contact, all the time. But now it's a stark contrast to the way he'd barely been mentally present recently.   
  
Bucky pulls Peter a little closer, kissing the top of his head.    
  
"Hey, baby," he begins, voice gentle. He has to tread carefully, he knows.   
  
"Hm?" Peter hums, nuzzling into Bucky's chest.    
  
"You wanna talk about today? Or yesterday? This week?" He asks, hand rubbing Peter's arm through the blanket. Bucky feels Peter tense a little, shifting slightly. Shifting away from Bucky, and nope, that won't do. Bucky let's him scoot but makes his arm firm so Peter won't move any further.    
  
"I don't think there's anything to talk about?" Peter says, but his tone is like a question, more like he's hoping Bucky won't press, rather than insisting his words are true (the way he had every day since Wednesday. It’s Friday). Bucky sighs.    
  
"I think there is, sweetheart." He says softly, kissing Peter's hair. The younger boy worries his bottom lip with his teeth, pulling his knees in tighter. 

 

“I don’t know, I’ve just felt a little off, that’s all.” He says. Hypothetically, that could be true. But the nervousness in his voice is telling Bucky there’s more to it. 

 

“Something happen?” He presses, nuzzling the top of his boyfriend’s head. “You can talk to me, Pete, you know that, right?” 

 

Peter nods, and he moves closer again, burying his face into the blankets and Bucky’s chest. 

 

“I know,” he sighs, and Bucky knows it’s just time now until Peter tells him what’s going on. He only has to wait a few more minutes, turning the volume lower on the television, before he feels Peter take in a slow, deep breath. 

 

“It’s, um, it’s just, I don’t know. May’s been really stressed out lately, and I haven’t really been sleeping well, and then Flash has been more mean than usual, and there’s just been a lot of little things and I’ve just felt really not great and then today he, Flash, um, he said I was just using you to get people to like me, and I’m not, I swear I’m not Bucky, and I’ve, I don’t know, it’s-” Peter cuts himself off with a distressed breath and Bucky doesn’t let him continue, pulling the smaller boy suddenly into his lap and hugging him tight.  

 

“Hey, hey hey hey, easy baby, it’s ok, alright? Sh, I’ve got you. Sounds like you’ve had a shit week, doll, I’m sorry you’re stressed out, but why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, rubbing Peter’s back and peppering feather light kisses to his boyfriend’s forehead.

 

“I, I don’t know. I just, I didn’t want to bother you, that’s all, and I’m being dumb about it, and-” Bucky cuts him off again because nope, that’s not a road he’s gonna let Peter go down. 

 

“No, no, sweetheart, you’re not-- you never bother me, Pete, never. Especially not when you aren’t feeling good. I’m here for you, remember? And you’re not, you’re not being ‘dumb’ about it, babe. There’s a lot going on and you’re stressed out, that’s not something you should be ashamed of or anything. What you feel is important. You’re important, Peter.” He says confidently, seriously, because he means it and Peter needs to know he means it. The scrawny goofball in hip lap is one of the most important people in the world to Bucky, and he needs the kid to know that. To know that he cares about him, to know everything he just said is true fact. He lets it sink in, lets Peter take in his words for a while before he continues. 

 

“And I know you aren’t using me. Don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but I honestly don’t think you’re capable of manipulation, ok?” Bucky pauses to let Peter scoff, though he knows he made the boy smile a bit. Satisfied that he’s eased the younger teen a little, he nuzzles the boy’s hair and shifts them around until Peter is facing him, legs splayed on either side of Bucky’s thighs, so he can kiss the smaller’s nose. 

  
“If anything, I’m using you,” He says in a lower voice a few minutes later, because it’s been a short while but he’s just realizing what position they’re in, and maybe it’s too soon after the conversation they just had but it’s kinda definitely turning him on. 

 

“Yeah?” Peter whispers, a bit breathless, and Bucky knows his boyfriend has come to the same conclusion he has. 

 

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, moving his hands to take a loose hold on Peter’s waist. One thumb finds its way under the boy’s shirt, softly rubbing the smooth skin of his lower back, the other hand falling lower to hold Peter’s hip, fingers brushing his ass. “For your body,” Bucky continues, head dropping to mouth at Peter’s neck, “Pretty, pretty boy.” 

 

He feels Peter swallow hard and smirks. 

 

“Bucky,” the smaller boy says quietly, squirming slightly. Bucky can feel both of their hard ons rubbing together when he does, and it makes him groan against Peter’s neck. The boy shudders at the action, biting his lip, and _fuck_ , he’s so cute, Bucky has to kiss him. So he does. 

 

It’s soft at first, gentle, but very quickly escalates. Bucky pulls Peter more firmly against him and slips his tongue into the younger boy’s mouth, making Peter moan. It’s probably one of Bucky’s favorite things, he thinks, how sensitive Peter is. How easy he is to work up, to turn on, and then how he quite literally needs someone else (enter: Bucky) to finish him. It makes Bucky feel something he can’t quite describe, but it borders pride and possessiveness and just thinking about it makes him hard, so having the boy in question wiggling against him is getting him hot _really_ fast. 

 

And then Bucky thinks of an idea, kind of a terribly cruel, idea, and because he both has a point to prove and is a massive tease, he’s got to try it. 

 

Without warning, he puts his hands under Peter’s thighs and stands up. Peter yelps and clings to him like a koala, wrapping his legs around Bucky’s waist and his arms around the older boy’s shoulders. It makes Bucky chuckle in amusement, but he doesn’t let Peter give him a snarky remark about it, silencing any coherent thoughts the boy might have by sucking a hickey onto his neck. 

 

Bucky walks them back to his room, Peter’s uneven breathing in his ear, and drops them onto the bed. He lays his boyfriend on his back, climbing over him and kissing him, deep and a little messy. 

 

“Fuck, Pete,” he mouths at Peter’s jaw, “you’re so fucking-” he outright lick’s the boy’s neck, kissing him wetly, “- cute,” Bucky nips at Peter’s shoulder, then works the boy’s hoodie up and off his body as quickly as he can. Seeing the smaller teen’s exposed skin, so soft and creamy and inviting, Bucky drops back down, littering messy kisses over Peter’s chest and stomach. When he reaches the waist of the athletic shorts the boy is wearing, he pulls up and removes his own shirt. He can’t help the smile that cracks on his face when Peter sits up and wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck, kissing the older teen again. 

 

“Bucky, I’m, I,” Peter tries to get the words out, but Bucky soothes him, easing the shaking boy down and onto his back again, relishing in the warmth of the smaller body against his. 

 

“I know, angel, I’ll take care of you,” he says lowly, kissing all over Peter’s face again. As much as he loves teasing the boy, that part comes later, so he backs off enough to reach into the drawer beside his bed and pull out a small bottle of lube. Peter lifts his hips to help Bucky slip his pants and boxers. And, goddamn, Bucky will never ever get tired of this. Having Peter naked underneath him, pink and flustered and biting his lip, his pretty doe eyes gleaming, looking so needy and perfect. 

 

Bucky applies a generous amount of lube to a couple fingers and gets comfortable holding himself over Peter with one hand. His other trails down, making a home between Peter’s legs. He traces the tight ring of the younger boy’s entrance, sucking hickeys all around the base of his neck and collar bones to distract him. He has turtleneck sweaters to cover those up, anyways. Once Peter relaxes more, Bucky slowly inches one finger in. He takes his time, letting the tense boy under him get used to the sensation. He pumps and curls the one finger slowly, gently, stretching Peter as carefully as he can. When Peter whimpers and squirms a little, the older teen decides he’s ready for another, and cautiously adds another finger. 

 

He goes on like that, making sure he takes it slow, making sure Peter’s 110% ready before he moves on. And yeah, maybe part of that is so he can see the younger teen get needy when he’s ready for more. Maybe that’s making Bucky harder than he already is. But no one needs to know. 

 

Once he thinks Peter’s stretched out enough (which was hard to gauge at first, because even when Peter says he’s ready, he’s still crazy tight), Bucky removes his fingers and adds more lube. He takes two digits and pushes them back in, carefully probing, searching. He knows he’s found what he’s looking for when the pads of his fingers brush a rough patch and Peter cries out, muffled by his own hands. 

 

“That your sweet spot, baby?” Bucky coos, because he’s a smug prick and he knows it. He chuckles when Peter groans, no doubt wishing he could sass Bucky. But the older doesn’t let him, nudging his prostate again and breaking his groan into a whimper. 

 

Bucky keeps it up, rubbing against Peter’s sweet spot, making the boy squirm and moan, his breath hitching and voice breaking. He sounds so wrecked already, Bucky almost feels bad for what he’s doing. He kisses across Peter’s jaw and towards his ear until he can brace himself against the bed with his forehead, angled so he can whisper whatever dirty thing might come to mind in Peter’s ear, and use his other hand to gently rub at Peter’s tip. 

 

The boy’s cock has been strained and red, leaking precome down his shaft. Bucky smears the wetness across the head, teasing his fingertips against Peter’s slit. When Peter starts shaking and his back arches up in jerky motions, Bucky stops completely, pulling both of his hands away and holding down Peter’s hips. The smaller boy seems distressed, to say the least. A shocked, needy whimper escapes his mouth and he looks to Bucky with glossy eyes.

 

“B-Bucky-”

 

“Just making sure you know I’m not _actually_  using you, doll. I just said that as part of the foreplay,” Bucky interrupts, smirking because he knows exactly what he’s doing. Peter makes a sound like he wants to groan (in desperation or in annoyance, Bucky’s not sure) but doesn’t want to seem ungrateful for the reassurance (bless his heart). 

 

“Ok-k, ok, I-I know, I, please, don’t,” Peter stutters out, his hips trying to buck up, wanting friction, but Bucky holds him down. The older boy grins and kisses his boyfriend’s cheek. 

 

“I’ve got you, love,” he says, moving his hands back. He eases his fingers back inside the incredibly tight heat of Peter’s ass and the smaller teen sighs, swallowing the lump in his throat. His bruising grip on Bucky’s shoulders loosens slightly and he wets his lips, letting his eyes fall shut again. 

 

He looks so fucking beautiful, Bucky thinks. 

 

He’ll look even better once Bucky repeats the same action again. And again. 

 

He does just that, too. Resumes massaging Peter’s prostate and teasing his cock, only giving a couple rare strokes to his shaft and keeping mostly to rubbing the tip, toying at his slit. He stays at it, slowly increasing pace and intensity until he knows Peter’s about to come, and then stops all together. After the third time he does it, he stops coming up with excuses. He knows Peter knows what he’s doing by that point. And Peter, his sweet boy, can do nothing but moan and whimper and let it happen. It’s not like he can tell Bucky to knock it off and just finish himself; and that fact is what spurs the older teen on. Peter starts crying after the fifth time and Bucky almost cracks, but not quite. He edges the smaller boy a grand total of eight times before he finally decides the very flushed, very desperate angel has had enough. 

 

When he pulls away the last time, he thinks Peter might actually scream for a second. The boy’s eyes are screwed tight and one hand has left clutching Bucky’s shoulder to cover his mouth, but he can’t muffle the full fledged sobs that shake their way out of him. 

 

“B-Bucky, p-please, I c-can’t, I can’t, p-plea-ease-” He hiccups, and now Bucky does feel sorry for him, but he plants his hands beside Peter’s head and kisses his forehead gently anyways. This was the whole point, after all. 

 

“Listen, baby, it’s ok to not be ok. I never want you to lie to me or pretend you’re alright when you’re not, but you gotta tell me when something’s wrong, sweetheart. You gotta tell me when you aren’t ok, or I can’t help. Understand?” He says softly, wondering if this, edging his boyfriend, that is, counts as some form of punishment for not letting Bucky help with his whole ordeal this week. It’s not, right? They can’t call it a punishment if ‘punishing’ isn’t part of their dynamic, right?

 

Which, ok, maybe that’s a kink Bucky should look into more. 

  
Later, though.

 

“Y-yes, yeah, I, ok, ok ok ok, I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I, f-fuck, please, please Bucky p-please, ple-” Peter chokes out, and that’s what Bucky was waiting for. He runs a hand through Peter’s hair, kissing his forehead again. 

 

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you, doll. You don’t have to apologize, Petey, I just want you to know I’m here for you. You’re kind of a hardhead about those things, sweets. I know you can handle your own problems, but, just try to let someone else take care of you once in a while, yeah?” He hums, smiling and pressing his forehead against Peter’s. 

 

“Let me take care of you, baby,” his lips brush Peter’s as he says it, and he opens his eyes to see Peter staring at him, cheeks red, tears still falling, looking wrecked and kind of lost and like he might actually listen to Bucky’s advice for once. He swallows hard.

 

“Ok,” his voice quivers, and that’s all Bucky needs to hear. He smiles and kisses Peter softly, then sits back. This time, he knows Peter will be way to over-stimulated for another prostate massage, or for having Bucky’s hands on his sensitive tip. So he positions himself between the younger boy’s legs and lubes up his hand, gripping his boyfriend’s length loosely. He drops his head and wraps his lips around the head of Peter’s cock, licking gently, not sucking. He pumps his hand quickly but doesn’t squeeze any tighter. He tastes salty and sweet somehow, and Bucky’s other hand softly fondles the smaller teen’s heavy balls. 

 

Peter tenses up fast, and in no time at all his back is arching at an angle that looks dangerous. He cries out and then hot come is spilling into Bucky’s mouth. He swallows it all, making sure to lick Peter’s cock clean before he hauls himself back up to hover over his boyfriend where they’re faces are level. Peter had thrown an arm over his face at some point, and now his eyes are hidden by his elbow. His cheeks are bright red and his lips bitten, swollen, tear streaks running down his smooth skin. Bucky wipes one stream away, kissing and licking the other, waiting for Peter to stop shaking and catch his breath. 

 

Bucky’s not sure if Peter will be up for much more, tonight, seeing as how sensitive he must be now from the older teen edging him for so long. But Bucky is really, _really_ fucking hard right now and he needs to make sure Peter is ok asap so he can go jerk off in the bathroom, because his cock fucking _hurts_ , trapped against his jeans. He had no idea he could get so turned on by teasing Peter to tears, but apparently he’s more fucked up and kinky than he thought before, because he has probably never been harder in his life. 

 

“How do you feel, Petey? You ok?” He asks, running a hand soothingly along Peter’s side. The smaller boy swallows hard and maybe nods, but Bucky isn’t sure, so he presses. 

 

“Come on, talk to me baby, I need words. You alright?” He continues, biting his lip and waiting for Peter’s response. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

 

Peter wets his lips and very slowly starts to remove his arm from hiding his face. “Nn..” he tries, takes a deep breath, and starts again, “N-no, you,” another breath, “you didn’t h-hurt me, I’m, I’m o-ok.” Bucky smiles and waits for Peter’s arm to fall completely to the side before he peppers kisses all over his boyfriend’s face. Peter smiles tiredly at him, letting Bucky go before straining his neck to catch the older boy’s lips directly. 

 

When they pull apart and Bucky thinks he might actually explode, he brushes some of Peter’s hair off his forehead and smiles at him. “I gotta go get rid of this boner, and then I’ll be right back, ok?” He chuckles, and Peter giggles for a second, before wrapping his arms weakly around Bucky’s neck in protest. 

  
“You don’t have to,” He says quietly, and Bucky’s not sure if it’s because he’s nervous or fucked out. But he’s skeptical either way. 

 

“You sure? You seem pretty tired, love, and you’re probably really sensitive now,” He starts, but Peter cuts him off, shaking his head. Somehow his curls defy the logic of sweaty sex hair physics and bounce as his head turns from side to side, and Bucky’s mesmerized for a moment. 

 

“‘m sure. I can do it, I want to,” Peter says, pretty confidently compared to some other times he’s offered or accepted sex. Bucky smiles at him and kisses him again. 

 

“I’ll be gentle,” he says, unbuttoning his jeans. Peter smiles at him, and Bucky has no fucking clue how he manages to look so sweet and cute and loving and downright _lustful_  at the same time. 

 

“I know you will be, you always are.” He confirms, one hand going down to help his boyfriend shimmy out of his clothes. 

 

Bucky keeps to his word. 

 

They rewatch that Jurassic Park movie after. 

 

It’s the second one, Bucky learns.


	4. Hot Chocolate, Whipped Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Bucky have hot chocolate with whipped cream. Things escalate from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rating: explicit (sexual content)   
> notes/warnings: sexy things involving whipped cream *using it as lube*, anal fingering + sex
> 
> This is like, porn with food and feelings? That what this is? 
> 
> This series just gets worse [read: filthier] as I go on, tell my mother I'm sorry. 
> 
> Unbeta’d, per usual. Please enjoy this I-can’t-get-this-pair-doing-sexy-things-out-of-my-head fic

Bucky grabs the steaming mug carefully around the top, holding out the handle towards Peter. It burns his fingers a little but he hangs on until the smaller boy has a good grip, then turns back to the counter to take his own. 

 

The smell of rich chocolate fills the kitchen, wafting around. Peter is very particular about hot chocolate. He says there’s rules. You have to use whole milk (lactose intolerant people can use water but they’re on thin ice, he says) and proportion your chocolate powder to milk ratio correctly. Mini marshmallows are a must, and sometimes he adds mint or vanilla, too. But a defining characteristic of good hot chocolate, Peter tells him, is whipped cream. 

 

Which is why they had to go buy some before returning to Bucky’s house. 

 

Peter shook the can (they had to get the canned spray kind, because it’s more fun, festive, something along those lines) for a while while their mugs had been heating up. Now, cap popped off, he bites his lip in anticipation and focus, spraying a carefully constructed swirl on the surface of his drink. Bucky thinks he’s cute, watching how precise he is. 

 

When Peter’s topped off his mug, he turns to Bucky with a smile. The older teen holds out his cup, steadying it, and watches Peter repeat his actions. He gives Bucky a little more, it looks like, and the senior wonders if that’s on purpose. 

 

Peter doesn’t set the can down when he takes his first sip. By the look on his pretty face, it burns his tongue, but he drinks anyways. Not to be shown up, Bucky drinks his too. It’s downright _scalding_ , but somehow this is triggering competitiveness and pride, so he cringes but takes a gulp. 

 

_Hot_ , hot hot hot. 

 

Peter smiles at him and licks the whipped cream off his lips, looking overjoyed. 

 

“How’s it taste?” He asks all bubbly. Bucky gives him a look. 

 

“Hot,” he replies, and waits for Peter to give him an exaggerated frown before he corrects himself. “I’m kidding, babe, it’s good. You know what you’re doing.” 

 

A self-satisfied smirk finds Peter’s mouth. “I’m aware.” 

 

Bucky thinks its cute but something in him wants to wipe the smugness of his boyfriend’s face, and he knows just how to do it. So he barely sets his mug down before he’s sweeping Peter up by the waist and setting him on the table, Bucky standing between his legs.    


  
The younger boy yelps and almost spills his drink, but thankfully keeps it all in. He’s smiling all goofy and giggling now, and Bucky kind of wants him to be that happy, always. Like, forever. 

 

He wonders in the back of his mind if he could make that happen. 

 

Peter scrunches up his nose and bites his tongue. Bucky doesn’t get to wonder what it means before Peter sprays a small dollop of whipped cream onto the older boy’s nose. His face contorts because it feels weird and cold, but then Peter’s leaning forward and he _licks it off_. 

 

Bucky’s kind of frozen for a moment. Peter’s giggling again and taking another sip of his drink, but Bucky feels. Oh man. That was, that was really cute. Really cute and also kind of definitely turned him on. More than it should have. 

 

He doesn’t exactly think a whole lot about what he’s about to do before he’s doing it. Bucky grabs Peter’s hot chocolate from him and sets it on the countertop away from them, stealing the whipped cream from his hand. In a second, he sprays some onto Peter’s neck. The smaller boy freezes but Bucky doesn’t wait for him to respond, diving in. He sucks and licks the cream off Peter’s skin and somehow it tastes sweeter this way. 

 

Peter takes a shaky breath and tightens his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. It makes the older boy grin. He cleans the sugar away and sucks a hickey onto his boyfriend’s neck. Then he pulls away and starts lifting Peter’s shirt. 

 

The younger boy stutters out attempts at questions, but lifts his arms to help Bucky rid his top and when the senior puts a hand on his chest to push him down, he goes easy. Bucky guides Peter lower until the smaller teen’s back is against the table and Bucky looms over him. With a damn near predatory smile, Bucky kisses Peter on the lips. As he does, he sprays a trail of whipped cream down his chest and stomach, all the way to the sensitive place between what’s exposed of the boy’s v-lines. 

 

Bucky breaks the kiss to start mouthing down Peter’s neck. He trails his lips and tongue against smooth skin, picking up the fluffy cream as he goes. He leaves a trail of evidence behind him, saliva and the residue of ‘Ready Whip’ creating a broken, shiny path down Peter’s lithe torso. Bucky thinks it’s hot as fuck. 

 

He has rarely been more grateful to his mother’s job, because if she were home? Oh, god, if she was home… nope, nope, _stop thinking about your mom, Buck_. 

 

As he reaches Peter’s waist, lapping up the last of the dessert from the younger boy’s lower tummy, his fingers find the button of Peter’s jeans. He unzips the pants quickly, moving back slightly so Peter can sit up and frantically pull at his button up. It’s cute, Bucky thinks, how needily Peter wants him shirtless as well. 

 

The boy exposes himself to the older teen; lets Bucky see him unguarded and open, lets Bucky _experience_  him with intimacy. But he doesn’t really like feeling vulnerable, Bucky knows. It’s not hard to see. His boyfriend is always more comfortable when they’re wearing (or, alternatively, not wearing) an equal amount of clothing, always prefers encouragement and praise to any kind of degradation (even the playful, sexy kind). Peter’s sensitive. Bucky’s well aware of that. Kind of thrives off it, actually, the feeling of being protective and possessive, knowing how trusting Peter is of him. Knowing that for Peter, the most important thing in the world is having Bucky trust him back. 

 

It makes Bucky feel warm and good in his chest. He’s kind of a cocky asshole sometimes, but it’s not like he’s immune to vulnerability. It’s the mutual trust, the mutual openness, the mutual acceptance and love and _reverence_  that they share with each other, for each other. That’s what makes them work so well. In the core of their goofing off and deep conversations and (really, really hot) sex; the blood of their relationship is that neither feels any kind of power imbalance with the other, but that they’d trust each other, even if there was. 

 

That’s why Bucky was able to make the first move. He trusted Peter not to somehow twist that advance against him. That’s why Peter isn’t scared of letting Bucky hold him down sometimes (‘let’ as if Bucky’s not ripped and Peter about as muscular as a daisy). He trusts Bucky to let him go, if he asks. That’s why Bucky hurries to comply with Peter’s unspoken request, now, for him to lose his shirt. Because despite the physical and personality differences that make their dynamic the way it is; their core is being equal to each other. 

 

Or maybe Peter just really wants some skin-on-skin contact with Bucky’s chiseled abs right now, because, yeah, that happens sometimes (often). 

 

Whatever the cause, Bucky nearly ribs the buttons of his shirt getting it off as quickly as he can and shucking it to the side. Peter kisses him, the small boy’s hands cupping Bucky’s face. They both struggle for breath, because apparently they’re teenagers who get each other really hot, really fast. 

 

The older boy grabs Peter behind the knees and jerks him off the table suddenly. Peter scarcely releases a yelp, his feet hardly hitting the ground, and the older teen is turning him around. Bucky places a hand on his boyfriend’s back, pushing gently but quickly, bending Peter over the table. The younger boy groans. Bucky wonders if his little cock is trapped, rubbing against the edge of the table. He can’t tell from this angle, but it’s ok. They’ll get there soon. 

 

Peter’s arms are bent under him and he kind of scrambles for purchase against the sleek wood beneath his torso as Bucky uses his foot to spread Peter’s legs, nudging the younger boy’s sock clad feet apart. The senior is crowded up against Peter, grinding against him as he peppers kisses down the boy’s back. 

 

“Hey pretty boy,” Bucky begins, smirking when his boyfriend shivers. “I wanna try something. Trust me?” he prompts. He already knows the answer. Peter does his best to look back at him and nods, pretty brown curls bouncing. The boy’s cheeks are flushed already and Bucky thinks that some time he’s going to have to take a picture of that pretty blush. 

 

The older teen smiles reassuringly, kissing Peter’s back again. Then he pulls down the smaller’s jeans and boxers in a flash, just low enough to uncover his perfect ass. _God_  is his ass beautiful. As if that’s anything unusual, considering how gorgeous the rest of him is. 

 

Peter gasps at the sudden action, but keeps mostly quiet. Bucky basks in the fact that he’ll be changing that soon. Peter isn’t loud in the first place, and on top of it he always tries to hush himself (he’s so worried. Bucky’s working on helping him with that), but Bucky knows how to make him moan real prettily. He’s excited for it. 

 

He gives Peter’s ass a couple squeezes, massaging the plump flesh for a few moments. Then he grabs the can again.

 

Bucky’s not entirely sure how this is going to turn out, but he’s certain he’ll be getting even more sugar on his boyfriend.

 

He sprays a generous amount of whipped cream onto a bed of his fingers, then rubs them around. Peter gasps again when he must realize what Bucky’s thinking, and groans, wiggling his ass a little. Bucky grins, and swats one of his cheeks, a motion that turns into another squeeze. Then he bends down a bit and starts probing at Peter’s entrance. He gently rubs his fingers along the boy’s pretty pink rim, spreading the slick cream over his skin. 

 

Once Peter’s relaxed enough, mostly adjusting to the concept, Bucky’s guessing, the older teen slowly pushes in a cream-coated finger. It slides easy, save for the incredible tightness of Peter’s hole sucking him in. He lets the younger boy get used to it, wiggling his finger slightly, before he starts curling and slowly pumping the digit. 

 

When he thinks Peter’s ready (if the panting and apparently sweaty palms that can’t grip the table are anything to go by), Bucky carefully adds a second finger with more cream. He knows ‘Ready Whip’ isn’t meant to be used as lube, so he continually adds more, hoping he’s easing the glide and friction enough not to hurt Peter. The boy hasn’t given any signs of discomfort, though, and by this point in their relationship, Bucky trusts the younger teen to tell him when something’s wrong. 

 

With two fingers buried in Peter now, Bucky pushes them deeper, faster. He curls them at one point, a ‘come here’ motion that makes Peter whine a high, needy sound. Bucky loves it, so he repeats the action to hear it again. 

 

When he scissors Peter enough to reach three fingers and can move them fairly easily, Bucky pulls away and unbuttons his pants. Like Peter, he only unzips and pulls them low enough to free his frankly _aching_  cock. And oh, some kind of God must be real and must love Bucky, because there’s a condom in his back pocket and he slips it on quickly. 

 

Having Peter laid out for him is always the most tempting sight, but standing right behind him, fingering him for so long, Bucky’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get inside this boy right fucking now. 

 

He sprays more whipped cream in his hand, coating his cock, and then grabs Peter’s hips. His grip is kind of off, because the melted sugar on his hands is making everything he touches (Peter) slippery and sticky at the same time, but he manages. 

 

“Ready, baby?” Bucky asks, and prays that the reply is snappy. Holy shit, does he want to be fucking this boy, like, five minutes ago. 

  
“Y-yeah,” Peter stutters. Bucky wishes he could see the boy’s face. No doubt flustered and glassy-eyed, his perfect lips parted and that pretty, pretty blush turning his cheeks pink. With that confirmation, Bucky pushes in. 

 

He moves as slow as he can. He stretched Peter well and the whipped cream is surprisingly effective and it’s so, so tempting to go faster, but he won’t. Not unless (or until, as is the case some days) Peter asks him to. There are some things Bucky thinks he’ll always need Peter to initiate, to be fully certain that the boy isn’t lying or doing more than he’s comfortable with for Bucky’s sake. Rough, or rougher, sex is one of those things. 

 

So Bucky moves agonizingly slow until he bottoms out, and then sits. He’s bent over Peter, his chest almost against the boy’s back. One hand leaves his lover’s hips to rub at his soft back, whispering sweet things as close to the younger’s ear as he can get. 

 

“Doing so good, so good, baby, you’re so good for me,” he coos. Peter preens at the praise, whimpering prettily and moving his hips back against Bucky. The senior chuckles low and gravely in his chest, his hand finding its way to Peter’s hair. 

 

He threads his fingers in the lovely curls, petting gently before taking a grip. Not tight, but holding. 

 

“Like that, honey? Like when I tell you how good you are?” Bucky asks, as if he doesn’t know the answer. As if he hasn’t teased Peter this same way, with the same questions, plenty of times before. 

 

Peter nods and whimpers again, his little chest rising and falling quickly. Bent over his lover, Bucky can see the boy biting his lip, can see his beautiful doe eyes screwed shut. He’s a sight, that’s for sure. An angel. 

 

“Tell me, sweetheart.” Bucky says, somewhere between an insistent request and a gentle order. 

 

“I-I like it,” Peter stumbles through his words as Bucky gives the first slow draw out of his hole, almost exiting entirely until just the head, the thickest part, is stretching his rim. “I l-like w-when you t-tell me I’m g-good,” he finishes, and Bucky can _hear_  the tears in his eyes. 

 

So easily overwhelmed. It makes Bucky want to take care of him; and also ram him into a mattress until the sweet thing forgets his own name. 

 

“And you are, aren’t you,” The older teen says, pushing painfully slow back in. He knows the angle he needs now, making the entire, torturous thrust drag against Peter’s prostate. The boy mewels. “So good, my perfect boy.” Bucky pulls away again, and this time accentuates his re-entree with a snap, jerking his hips in. The force of it hammers Peter forward suddenly, making him ride further up the table. 

 

Bucky keeps it up now, alternating between slow drags and quick thrusts, making sure no matter what he does, he always nudges or nails Peter’s sweet spot. 

 

It’s so hot and so tight inside the boy under him, Bucky’s losing his mind to the feeling. He can fucking _smell_ the whipped cream that’s lubricating their fucking, can feel it squelching inside his boyfriend, can hear the lewd sounds of his thrusts. Skin on skin, Bucky’s hips snapping against Peter’s. The intensity that Peter shakes with when Bucky drags his cock out in the slowest way possible, moves back in at such a languid pace, he’s not sure if Peter even knows how turned on he is. How badly he wants to hammer into the boy. 

 

Bucky can hear Peter getting close, sees the muscles of his back contorting, hears how his moans (already rather feminine-- something Bucky will admit he likes) get higher and higher pitches. He picks up the pace. 

 

“You wanna come, baby? Think you’re almost there?” Bucky asks, because he’s an asshole who loves to hear Peter struggle to answer him. 

 

“I-I,” the small boy tries, biting his lip to try and muffle the long whine he lets out when Bucky rolls his hips just right, grinding against Peter’s prostate in a long, rough motion. “’m c-close,” he manages. Bucky smiles and leaves wet kisses on his boyfriend’s back. 

 

He moves faster yet, and a little harder, but not quite rough. Peter didn’t ask for rough. So Bucky lets himself get lost in the sensation of being inside the younger boy, feeling him clenching, feeling the heat of Peter’s hole surrounding him, pulsing through him, traveling up his cock and pooling in his stomach. He loses himself to the feeling, lets his orgasm build without conscious thought. 

 

When he’s approaching the edge, knows he’s about to tip, Bucky takes his hand from Peter’s hair and moves it around the boy’s waist, finding his hard-on. Peter gasps and moans the prettiest, needest sound, bucking back against the older teen. Bucky licks his lips, finding breathing difficult. 

 

“You’re doing so perfect, angel, just a little more. Beautiful boy, are you ready to come?” Bucky husks out, his voice deeper than he’s ever heard it. Peter keens in response, to Bucky’s words or his particularly deep thrust-- the older’s not sure. Probably both. 

 

Bucky swipes his fingers over the tip of Peter’s cock, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the slit enough to encourage more of his already leaking precome to spill. He drags the wetness down with his hand, wrapping his palm around the small boy’s little cock. It’s not so incredibly tiny, really, but it’s small for sure, and dwarfed compared to Bucky’s. It looks _cute_ , flushed pink and needy in Bucky’s large hand, which just spurs the senior on. He strokes Peter quickly, knowing any longer and the boy would start to get over-stimulated. 

 

Not like he’s so sensitive that _everything_  is over-stimulating, anyways. 

 

“H-hah, B-Bucky, I, I’m g-gonna-” Peter gets cut off by his own moan, closer to a shriek, really. He comes against the edge of the table, staining his stomach, the wood, and the floor below them with pearly white release. Bucky groans, dropping his forehead against Peter’s back. As he strokes the boy through his orgasm, his hole clenches down and Bucky was already close--

 

He comes with a long moan, biting Peter’s shoulder and turning it into a messy hickey. His climax fills the condom, and it’s hot, so hot he’s sure Peter can feel it too, adding heat and girth to Bucky’s length. It feels so good, like he’s exploding in a good way and he gets lightheaded, draping himself over the younger boy. 

 

They stay there for some time, panting, trying to right their breathing, come and whipped cream getting cold and sticky on their skin. When Bucky feels the bones returning to his arms and legs, he rights himself, the hand that had held Peter’s cock moving to wrap around the boy’s waist, pulling him up. Peter seems to weakly push himself up, too, but his arms look shaky and Bucky’s not sure they had any effect. 

 

Bucky pulls off the condom, tying it and letting it drop to the floor. There’s a rag hanging off the counter next to him, so he steps away for a moment to take it, gently cleaning the come and melted cream off himself and Peter. He fixes his and Peter’s jeans when he’s done; not bothering to button or zip them, but simply pull their boxers and pants back up to their waists.

 

Peter leans against him and Bucky lets his hands, already on the boy’s hips, wrap around his waist and back, pulling him in against him. Their chests are hot pressed together and Peter’s hair smells good under his chin, despite no doubt being sweaty from the sex they just had, and things feel good and right. Bucky feels the reoccuring sensation of wanting to hold him like that forever. 

 

He wonders, not for the first time, if Peter would let him. 

 

He likes to think so. 

 

“Did so good for me, sweetheart. Took it so well, you wonderful boy. My gorgeous angel,” Bucky murmurs against Peter’s head, his hand rubbing Peter’s back. He can feel Peter, who’s arms are wrapped overlapping (they’re literally pressed against each other) around Bucky, tracing little circles with his thumbs on the older teen’s skin. He hums appreciatively, kissing Bucky’s collar bone. 

  
“Mmm, that was fun. You’re really good, Bucky. Made me tired.” Peter whispers, and his voice sounds a little wrecked. Bucky chuckles, knowing Peter can hear the rumble in his chest, and kisses the boy’s head. 

 

“Me too. Maybe we should take a shower and have a nap?” He offers, knowing that kind of gentle aftercare, where he would hold Peter like he’s the whole world and Peter would touch him reverently, is exactly what they both want. 

 

Peter nods against him, and after a moment, starts giggling. Bucky cracks a grin without even knowing what the boy’s amused by, because happy Peter is the most contagious thing in the world. 

 

“What?” He prompts, letting his hands slide to Peter’s waist again and allowing the boy to put a small distance between them. Peter drags one hand from Bucky’s back, along his ribs and to his chest, fingers splayed like he wants to keep them there, and his other hand rubs at his eyes. He’s smiling when he says:

 

“I think the hot chocolate might be cold…” 

 

Bucky smirks, leaning forward to kiss his nose. The kitchen smells like sex and whipped cream and chocolate all together, now, and he faintly remembers there’s come on the floor and table that he’ll have to clean up before they go upstairs. 

 

“No way. That stuff was scalding,” He says, and Peter grins at him even more. 

 

“You drank it anyways,” He looks too triumphant, and Bucky can’t deny he still looks adorable. Always does. Little shit. 

 

“Only ‘cause you drank it and I can’t have some twink showing me up,” Bucky cracks with his asshole smirk, because he knows Peter’s going to punch him in the arm for that. He does. 

 

“Shut up, you’re just jealous.” The boy says definitely, but despite their conversation he’s drifted back against Bucky. Not as close as before, far enough to tip his head back and meet Bucky’s eyes, but closer. 

 

“Of your hot chocolate drinking skills, yeah,” Bucky teases. It’s probably true, though. Peter giggles at him, leaning his head against Bucky’s chest, giving the taut skin a kiss. Bucky loves it when Peter kisses him like that. Fond. 

 

“Mhm, you so are.” He says, and Bucky nuzzles his hair. Yeah. Maybe he is. 

 

Turns out, as they soon discover; the hot chocolate is not cold. The perfect temperature now, Bucky says. Peter laughs at him, and makes a comment about them having to have sex to let it cool down for Bucky’s taste buds. Bucky tickles him for that, but Peter loves it. They both do. They stay glued together when they drink and clean up, and kiss lazily through their shower. Laying in Bucky’s bed, both in Bucky’s sweatpants and t-shirts (which positively swamp the younger boy), Peter whispers that he loves Bucky more than anything. Bucky whispers it back. 

 

They mean it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve got a bunch of homework this week but I have so much of this series (and other fics) I want to write-- I’m a train wreck and a half. Thank you kindly


	5. Jealous Bucky pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky thinks Wade Wilson spends too much time trying to get into Peter’s pants. Peter disagrees. The discussion (read: argument) lands them in the locker room, where Steve realizes Peter is too wound up to notice the half naked people. Truth be told, it’s kind of funny. Kind of cute.
> 
> rating: mature (language)  
> notes/warnings: nothing other than Bucky being a jealous boi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit short. I have so many of these that I wanna write, gang, but I am So Tired.

"I'm not saying he's a bad guy, ok, I'm just saying if he keeps flirting with you-- I'm gonna lose my shit," Bucky says, reaching for the door handle. He jerks it open and steps through the doorway, and despite his attention being elsewhere, absentmindedly he still holds the heavy door back for Peter so the smaller boy can follow him into the room.   
  
In the back of his head, it makes Peter feel fond and appreciative.   
  
Doesn't stop him from snapping back with exasperation, though.   
  
"Oh my god, Bucky, he's not _flirting_  with me, he's being _friendly_ ," Peter wants to explode. He's irritated. Not angry-- he's not sure he's capable of being angry with Bucky-- but so irritated. They've been having this 'argument' for ten minutes already.   
  
Since Bucky had walked into the library to find Peter talking with Wade Wilson.

Wade, who's in Bucky's grade, had been sitting next to Peter. They were doing homework together (because Peter's in three different AP classes) and Wade was making jokes that Peter laughed at. Yes, ok, sometimes some part of Wade's body touched some part of Peter's body; but those were unintentional or casual. They were just goofing around and hanging out.

It was fun and innocent and then Bucky had walked in at a moment that Peter supposes could have been interpreted the wrong way: Wade's hand on Peter's shoulder, the older boy leaned over close to whisper into his ear. The senior was making a joke about a pair of teachers who had just walked in, and Peter laughed a little before scolding him for being rude, swatting his arm. Wade laughed too, and was about to say something else, but then Bucky had been there and asked Peter to come with him right now immediately. Peter hurried to put his stuff together, called goodbye to Wade (who replied with something like ‘later, baby boy’), and then rushed out of the library after Bucky.

  
Bucky, apparently, is completely convinced that Wade keeps flirting with Peter, trying to 'make a move on him'. This is ridiculous, Peter knows it is, but his boyfriend is stubborn. Terribly stubborn. 

  
"Yeah, mhm, ' _friendly_ '," the older teen says the word like venom, "that's why he can't keep his hands off you."

  
Peter rolls his eyes, following Bucky into the locker room.   
  
He's so wrapped up in how unbelievable his boyfriend is being, he doesn't even notice the group of half naked team members startled by the couple’s entrance.   
  
A fair share of Bucky's teammates and friends are there, plus a few others Peter wouldn't recognize even if he’d pay enough attention to register that there are more people in the room.   
  
Most of the guys know Peter, or at least know of him. Bucky (one of the three senior captains other than Tony and Steve) doesn't shut up about the kid. Among the players changing who do personally know Peter are Steve, Tony, Clint and Sam.   
  
Peter doesn't say hello to them; probably because he doesn’t realize that they're there. If he did, he'd be beat red and running out of the locker room. Most of the people in there are shirtless and now staring at him. Peter pays them no mind.   
  
"Has it occurred to you that maybe you're misreading this because you already don't like Wade-"   
  
"That's not true."   
  
"-and are just an asshole?" Peter crosses his arms and stands in front of Bucky, who sits down on a bench. His locker is beside him and he opens it to pull out his clothes and shoes. But he looks up to smirk at Peter.  
  
"I definitely am an asshole, but that's not the point." He kicks off his sneakers. Peter frowns.   
  
"The point is that you have no idea how to pick up signals, at all, and you should stop hanging around him so much because he's like, two seconds from asking you to go to Sister Margaret's with him." Bucky continues. Someone snickers and the senior gives them a glare, but Peter doesn’t notice. The younger boy relaxes some of his aggravated tension away for a moment and his head tilts a little to the side, his face softening.   
  
"What's Sister Margaret's?" (Curiosity exposes how weak their wills for arguing with each other are. It's a 180 from their attitudes a moment ago.)  
  
"You don't need to know," Bucky says, standing up for a second. He shucks off his jeans and pulls on his practice shorts like its nothing, and to everyone else (his teammates who he changes around daily, and his boyfriend that he’s fucked too many times to count), it's exactly that.   
  
Steve's amazed at how comfortable Peter is, though. The understanding of why the kid is unphased makes him feel weird.  
  
"Bucky," Peter shakes off the interruption in his argument and gets back to being irritated. "I'm not gonna stop hanging out with Wade, or talk to him less, just because you're misunderstanding him."   
  
Buck rolls his eyes and pulls off his shirt. Usually, Peter would be staring at him fondly (or with anticipation, depending on the situation), but he right now it's irrelevant.   
  
"I'm not misunderstanding anything, Pete, you're naive and if Wade keeps trying to get in your pants I'm going to do something dramatic."   
  
Peter glares at him. God, Bucky's being so aggravating right now. Wade is not trying to get in his pants! Wade doesn't even _like_  him like that, and Bucky, ugh, Bucky's acting like a proper jealous teenage boyfriend. And it's driving Peter crazy.   
  
"I'm /not/ naive. Bucky, you're, oh my god, you're driving me crazy right now." He states and he sounds more upset than mad and that just makes him angrier because he’s not even emotional right now, he’s just _pissed_ , but is voice isn’t cooperating.

  
Bucky pulls on his other shirt and sits back down, unlacing his practice shoes. He sighs, because now he thinks Peter's getting sensitive about it, and that makes Peter want to bang his head on the wall. He's not _emotional_  about it, he's irritated and mildly offended because he knows Bucky doesn't really mean it but he isn't fucking naive.   
  
"Listen, babe. Wade is interested in you, whether you realize it or not. Sorry 'bout it. And it's kind of fucking me up." Bucky says, tying his shoes without looking, eyes on Peter.   
  
They're silent for a moment, staring at each other, and it's somewhere between a face-off and an understanding. Neither of them seem to realize that all the other guys in the room, moving slowly to finish changing, aren't talking anymore. They don't stare, don't make it obvious, but they're all just listening now.   
  
Steve isn't sure what he thinks of it. It's not funny, exactly, they're having an argument, but he knows they aren't really fighting. Neither of them are angry at each other. Ok, Peter’s kinda pissed at Bucky, but it's not that deep. His voice did a funny thing there and Bucky sort of backed off, but they don't sound upset. It's more like… bickering.

Fruitless bickering between two people who are physically incapable of arguing for real. He's actually half expecting them to say something that snaps the very fragile tension, the thin ice of 'conflict' that they're skating on (apparently, Steve's found, it's very hard for them to be anything but loving towards each other), and for them to break down in a fit of giggles.  
  
That's happened before.   
  
They don't laugh this time, though. But they seem to come to an understanding.   
  
"He's my friend, Bucky. I'm not gonna stop talking to him." Peter says. He's not fighting anymore. It's not a challenge; he's staying his terms.   
  
"I'm gonna tell him, then. I'm telling him to stop flirting with you." Bucky replies, and he's accepting Peter's deal, but the corner of his mouth is twitching up. It's mischievous and Peter wants to be agitated but he loves it, he knows he does. Damnit.   
  
Come on, Peter! You're supposed to be mad at him for overreacting and being rude to Wade!!!   
  
"You're being jealous for no reason." He tries one last, futile time before Bucky's smirk (that he's trying to hide by biting his lip) makes him crack.   
  
Bucky scoffs. "I'm not jealous," he says, and then he stands and Peter doesn't back away because the boy now towering above him wraps an arm around his waist and leans down, speaking low and quiet in his ear.   
  
"I'm possessive."   
  
Peter swallows thickly and shivers and he's blushing already, but he goes beat fucking red when Clint Barton, the devil incarnate, fucking _whistles_.   
  
"Get a room, Barnes," Sam shouts at him, and the rest of the room laughs.   
  
Peter wants to end his entire life right now please, and he can't tell if he's relieved or not when Bucky pulls away. Less of a scene, but no place to hide his cherry flushed cheeks. He covers his face with his hands and groans, so suddenly aware of the people around him.   
  
Bucky's hand stays on his waist, though.   
  
"Fuck off guys," he says, but he's laughing. Peter's going to push him off a bridge, and then he's going to throw himself off, too.   
  
Steve laughs from where he's standing a ways away, but smacks Clint on the back of the head. Clint sticks out his tongue at Steve, and grabs both of their knee pads, moving towards the door.   
  
"Oh my god, oh my god," Peter mumbles. Bucky's thumb rubs soothingly against his side and he laughs softly, looking down at Peter.   
  
The younger boy is ready to disappear now, and the senior seems to pick up on it (thank god for Bucky) so he moves his arm to drape over Peter's shoulders, walking him towards the door.   
  
"Hey, Barnes, door's that way, where you goin’?" Sam calls after them, pointing his thumb to the other door on the opposite side of the locker room, the one that leads to the field.   
  
Bucky turns back in the doorway, letting Peter shuffle quickly into the hallway, grinning like a cat back at his friend.   
  
"Getting a room," he lets the door fall closed behind him, cutting off the shouting of his teammates.   
  
Peter makes sure he's glaring at his boyfriend when the older teen turns to him.   
  
Bucky's smirking, of course he is.   
  
"That was the worst thing ever." The smaller boy groans. Bucky chuckles, cupping his face and cooing at him.   
  
"Sorry baby, think you'll live?" The senior snarks. Peter punches him lightly in the chest, letting his fist continue rest against the other boy after.   
  
"Dick."   
  
Bucky kisses him, a soft peck. "Love you." He says, his lips moving against Peter's.   
  
Peter tips his head up a little and kisses Bucky back.   
  
"Love you too."   
  
Bucky sighs a little, covering the hand Peter has on his chest with his own.

  
"I'm sorry I went all caveman on you. But I am going to talk to Wade." He says quietly. Peter hums.   
  
"I still think you’re wrong, but, I trust you. Aaand I'm sorry I called you an asshole. Just, please be civilized, ok?" The younger man requests. His fist flattens to a palm against his boyfriend's chest.   
  
Bucky shakes his head and huffs a little, but looks back at Peter with a reassuring smile. "I'll try," he promises.   
  
Peter smiles appreciatively at him. Bucky looks down at him with this face, a gleam in his eyes, purely loving, and it makes Peter feel so warm and happy. Warm and happy. He loves it. Loves it so much, loves _Bucky_  so much, he knows he's staring back with the same look on his own face.   
  
Bucky kisses his forehead and Peter sighs into it.   
  
"You should go to practice," he says quietly. Bucky nods, peppering a few more kisses over Peter's face.   
  
"I'll see you tonight, alright?" He whispers, leaving a butterfly kiss on Peter's temple. Peter grins and stands on his tip toes to chase the older teen and kiss his cheek.   
  
"Yeah," his voice wavers a bit, but he doesn't mind. Bucky kisses him one more time, a little harder (like a promise, Peter's brain supplies), before he's letting go of Peter's hand and walking back into the locker room.   
  
Peter sighs and stands in the hallway for a moment longer, before adjusting his backpack and turning to leave. He's not worried about Wade.   
  
Ok, he's a little worried. And he still doesn't believe that Wade is interested in him like that-- but he trusts Bucky.   
  
Mostly.   
  
In any case, he needs to get home and get his homework done before Bucky's practice is over.   
  
They're making soufflés tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and such, hope you like it <3


	6. First "I love you"s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Peter says it and doesn't realize. The first time Bucky says it and doesn't realize. The first time they both say it, and mean it more than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it after a month, kinda got swept up in some other fics, oops. No, I have not forgotten about these boys. No, I am not over them. 
> 
> This chapter was speed written so it's some pretty low quality and I'll probably be editing/updating it, yeah. I mention in the fic summary/description that these chapters aren't necessarily chronological, so, hopefully that explains things. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and hope you like it, and all that jazz ;)
> 
> rating: mature (language)  
> notes/warnings: fluff, i guess

Peter says it first. 

 

It’s a home game against a rival school, Peter’s not even entirely sure which one (Bucky told him a couple times, but he was also carding his fingers through Peter’s hair when he did and that was kind of really distracting). The scores are tied and the game’s running late into the night, so much so that Peter can see the brightest of stars peeking out through the haze of city lights. He’s sitting on the bleachers beside the field, a thin blanket between him and the cold metal, and he’s watching closely. 

 

He’s not actually sure what’s going on (Bucky tries to explain it, they’re working on that) but he can see Tony and Steve and Bucky all making a lot of very intense gestures to each other all the time, and they’ve been tied since the beginning. MJ is sitting beside Peter and she says something about snacks, and shuffles off to the side, leaving Peter alone in his hoodie and Bucky’s windbreaker. 

 

Time is running low and lower when the team (Steve, most likely) calls for a time out. Coach Fury makes some wild hand expressions and leaves them, Tony walking into the center of their huddle. When they break away, they all have dangerous sorts of grins on their faces. Bucky looks off towards Peter for a second and Peter hopes he smiles fast enough for his boyfriend to see. 

 

“What’d I miss?” MJ asks when she gets back.

 

“Nothing, I think. They called a time out and they’re about to start again,” Peter shrugs. He hopes they win. It’s not really directly important to him, per say, but the whole team is really worked up about beating this other school and not losing their success streak, and their practices have been getting a little longer. Bucky in particular has been really adamant about this game specifically, and Peter hates it when the senior gets disappointed. 

 

A referee blows his whistle and people are getting situated, and then they’re running. Peter’s not sure he’s ever seen this play before, because Sam is at the head of the group and Clint is at the back, and Tony is way off on the side. Peter loses track of Bucky to watch Sam pass to Tony, and a couple different guys jump in front of him, the goalie facing him. And then suddenly Tony is passing to Clint and Clint is passing to Scott and then there’s Bucky, kicking the ball in. 

 

Peter’s pretty sure his entire body tenses up and the goalie tries to jump at the ball, but he slips on the grass and it goes in. There’s seven seconds left in the game when the referee calls the goal, and Peter is too busy smiling like a fool at MJ to pay attention to the last seven seconds, where the other team half-heartedly tries to get the ball down field. The timer goes off and whistles are blowing, and everyone on the bleachers is cheering. Peter’s off in a hurry, rushing out of the stands. There’s a crowd that he has to get around, but he finally makes it to where the team are collecting and jumping around. 

 

They all have huge smiles on their faces and are hugging and shoving and grabbing each other, and they’re wet? How did they all get wet? Did they dump something on each other? Peter thought that was for football and really special occasions. Maybe Clint just pranked them. Whatever the cause, Bucky smells like sweat at Gatorade when Peter speed walks his way up. 

 

The moment Bucky sees him he tugs Peter into his arms and lifts him off the ground, spinning him around. Peter thinks he might have underestimated how important this game was to all of them, because no one even calls his boyfriend out on the action. Not even _Tony_. He sees Steve grinning at them and then Sam ruffles a hand through Peter’s hair, the younger boy looking at Bucky, and his grin fills Peter up with all kinds of happy things. 

 

“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” He laughs, and Bucky just hugs him again. 

 

There’s more shouting and Bucky’s arm latches around Peter’s waist, and the coaches are trying to call the guys into the locker room but there’s a bunch of their other classmates out, now. Suddenly Natasha is braced on Thor’s shoulders and Peter’s never seen her smiling so big. This sparks something in the crowd and, man, Peter should really keep up better with what his school gets invested in, because pretty much everyone is celebrating. More people are climbing onto other people’s shoulders, and Peter sees Wanda go up on her brother Pietro’s, and Sam jumps up on Steve’s, and Pepper on Tony’s, though she looks at first wary but soon gets swept up in the energy. 

 

And suddenly Bucky is dropping down and Clint has a hand on Peter’s back and then Peter’s climbing up on Bucky’s shoulders, and he swears to god he gets high on some kind of drug when the senior stands up. Peter bursts into a fit of laughter and tangles his fingers into Bucky’s hair, his boyfriend holding his knees, looking up at him. 

 

Someone starts shouting about food and beer, and people are moving in every direction, everyone laughing and grabbing each other’s arms. There’s so much energy and excitement and Bucky spins a little, Peter curling in on himself not to lose his balance. The younger teen yelps at the action, finding himself completely enveloped in the moment. He’s so proud of all of them, of the team, of Bucky. God, he’s so fucking proud of Bucky. He feels warm and full of bubbles and thinks absolutely nothing at all when he bends down just a little bit further to speak in Bucky’s ear, through his fit of giggles. 

 

“God, I love you,” he laughs. He’s smiling so wide it hurts and the crowd is moving, and Bucky seems to add a higher pep in his step, damn near skipping with Peter on his shoulders, laughing and looking ecstatic. Like this very well may be one of the highest, happiest, most exciting moments in his life. 

 

Peter missed it, that time. He didn’t even realize he said it. 

 

The second time, though, he knows. 

 

Because it’s Bucky who says it next. 

 

It’s a lot different the second time. They spent the day baking pies with Bucky’s mom and listening to 40’s music, at which point Bucky had dragged Peter into his arms and swayed with him. He even spun him a few times, both of them giggling helplessly, overwhelmed with the fond smiles they gave each other.

 

They’d skated across the linoleum kitchen floors in thick socks and after Peter bumped Bucky’s water glass (on accident, note) and made the older boy spill on his chin, his boyfriend had chased him all around the house. Peter ran up the stairs and tried to evade him but Bucky caught up, snatching him around the waist and sweeping him off his feet. The moment the senior set him down, Peter was spun around and thrown over Bucky’s shoulder, carried into the teen’s room, and tossed on the bed. Bucky lunged on after him and commenced to tickling him mercilessly, until Peter was teary eyed and so out of breath he couldn’t even beg the older to stop. After which, Bucky barely gave him enough time to refill his lungs before he was kissing him senseless. 

 

Later on, they migrated to Bucky’s living room. They started on their knees, just in joggers and t-shirts, but progressed to standing around the coffee table in front of Bucky’s couch. 

 

There’s a giant tower of Jenga between them. They’ve been at the game itself for over an hour, but they’re twelve minutes into this round and there’s only six or seven pieces left to remove and stack before they can’t go any higher. 

 

Bucky knocks one piece out with one smooth movement, and Peter runs around behind the couch as he does, smothering his face in a pillow, chanting ‘oh my god, oh my god’. Bucky laughs and carefully sets the piece on top of the tower, stepping back with his hands raised defensively, daring the structure to collapse. 

 

It stays up, miraculously, and Bucky waits for Peter to lift his face from the pillow. The boy comes around slowly, feeling like one creek of the floor boards might send the whole tower crashing to the ground. He wipes sweaty palms on his shirt and carefully approaches the coffee table, unaware of the smirk Bucky watches him with. 

 

“Careful, babe, don’t wanna tip it over,” Bucky teases. Peter shoots him a glare and reaches for one block wedged between two others, around the middle of the stack. He taps it carefully, and the whole thing shakes, which makes him jump back and wait for it to stabilize. 

 

“You just gotta knock it out really quick,” Bucky advises, as Peter steps back up with a nervous look. He takes deep breaths and puts his finger against the piece, pulling back. He stabs it out forcefully, the piece flying out of the stack. The tower wobbles dangerously and Peter starts begging it not to drop, and they think it might actually stay up, are just starting to let their shoulders down, when it leans and falls. 

 

Jenga blocks go scattering everywhere, sliding across the floors and flooding the living room. Both boys groan and shout, and Bucky can’t stop laughing when Peter falls to his knees. He starts a mantra about loss and failure with lots of long, centuries older english words and the older teen is pretty sure his boyfriend is quoting some middle age era movie. 

 

Peter keeps going and every second that he continues, dramatically throwing himself to the side and punching his fists into his own chest to imitate a stab wound, has Bucky laughing harder. He can hardly breathe when Peter finally stops, the boy too consumed by his own giggles to continue. 

 

“I fucking love you, oh god,” Bucky coughs out, bracing himself on the arm of the couch. He doesn’t hear himself say it, too caught up in the way Peter was colorfully describing his own death at the hands of insufficiency.  

 

Peter hears him, though, and beams at the statement. It makes his cheeks flush and his head feels a little lighter, and he falls back against the floor, clutching at his stomach, laughing unwarranted hard. 

 

The third time it happens, they’re both saying it. 

 

And they both realize they say it. 

 

And they both mean it, more than anything.

  
It’s cake day. Peter and Bucky both made cakes for each other the previous night, Bucky with help from his mother, Peter with some help from May and mostly from the internet. Bucky made Peter a little lava cake, chocolate with cherry filling and maraschino cherries on top. An ode to his favorite cherry pie. Peter made Bucky a vanilla and red velvet swirl mini bundt cake, with whipped cream as frosting and sprinkles.

 

They _planned_  on giving them to each other in the morning, before classes started. However, Bucky got caught up with Sam’s laces issue, and texted Peter that he wouldn’t have time. So they left the cakes in their lockers and planned for lunch. 

 

Except that Liz asked Peter to help her set up for some freshmen art display in the auditorium, so Peter missed lunch _and_  the two classes he shares with Bucky. 

 

Their next idea was to swap cakes right after school, before practice, but coach Fury wanted the team out on the field ready to go asap, and they decided they’d rather not be so rushed. Then just when Bucky’s practice was finishing, Peter had to help May fix their sink. 

 

Basically, the whole universe decided that Bucky and Peter were not going to get to talk to each other that day. Which is why Bucky invited Peter to dinner with him and a few of his teammates. 

 

So that’s how Peter ends up standing outside a Subway at 9pm with a tupperware of almost day-old vanilla and red velvet swirl mini bundt cake with sprinkles, wearing Bucky’s hoodie, smiling as his boyfriend turns the corner with Steve and Natasha in tow. 

 

He grins wide as they get closer, and Bucky jogs ahead just a bit so he can hug Peter. The younger boy doesn’t miss the little box his boyfriend carries. 

 

“Hey,” he grins. Bucky smiles down at him with squinty eyes and kisses Peter’s nose. 

 

“Hey,” he copies, before turning back to Steve and Nat. 

 

“We’ll head inside.” Natasha says, winking at Peter. The small boy blushes, but smiles appreciatively and nods. The two head in, leaving Bucky and Peter standing outside. 

 

“Your cake,” Peter offers. He holds out his tub to Bucky, and Bucky does the same with the box. 

 

“Hope it’s still good..” The  older boy  smirks, and Peter grins reassuringly. 

 

“I’m sure it’ll taste fine.” He says matter-of-factly. He knows he’s biting his lip but he can’t seem to stop. All he’s been able to think about today is his plan, that he was finally gonna say it to Bucky. He wants to, he really does, has since Bucky let it slip on Jenga night. So he takes a deep breath, works up his courage, and looks at Bucky from under his eyelashes and slightly tamed curls. 

 

“I have something to tell you.” He starts. Bucky quirks an eyebrow. 

 

“I have something to tell you, too, actually.” He says, and Peter can almost place nervousness in his tone. “Say it together? Same time?” He suggests. Peter grins and nods. He thinks he knows what Bucky is going to say now. 

 

“Ok…” 

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you.” 

 

They both just stare for a moment, eyes locked, one of Bucky’s hands on Peter’s waist, one of Peter’s against Bucky’s chest, their free hands holding exchanged cakes. And then they’re grinning widely, and giggling a little, and Peter gently grabs the collar of Bucky’s hoodie to pull him down. Bucky draws him in a little tighter, and they kiss softly, both smiling too much to do anything deeper than pres their lips together. When they pull apart, their noses are still touching, and they’re both breathing a little heavier. Adrenaline. 

 

“Hi.” Peter whispers. 

 

“Hello,” Bucky whispers back. He pecks Peter again, smirking so happy with himself as he speaks against the younger boy’s temple. “I love you.” 

 

Peter giggles, kissing Bucky’s cheek. “I love you, too.” He replies. God, it feels so good to say that out loud. So _right_. So, so fucking _right_. 

 

They don’t move for a few more moments, just hanging onto each other despite standing outside a Subway with tupperware of cakes in between them. It feels good to be close. 

 

It’s Bucky who finally swallows and chuckles a little, pulling back only slightly. 

 

“We should, um. Food. Inside. Yeah…” He trails off, looking memorized by Peter’s face and eyes. Peter laughs a little, nodding, equally lost in Bucky’s expression and deep, steely blues. 

 

“Yeah…” He smiles. Bucky kisses him again, and then one more time, before he pulls away. He doesn’t go far before he’s bringing their free hands together, lacing their fingers as he guides Peter into the restaurant. 

 

Inside, where it smells like bread and Peter really wants to try the cake Bucky made him, Steve and Natasha give them goofy faces. 

 

The boys mirror them, and there’s an elderly couple seated between the two groups that just laugh to themselves. Kids, they think. 

 

Having the times of their lives. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Bucky/Peter and I will go down with this ship, yes I will


	7. Over-Sensitive Peter pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is going away for a week and, consequently, won't be around to help Peter. He has a solution, though. 
> 
> In which winterspider enlists Cap to help with Peter's problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I can't stop writing drabbles for this concept. Whatever. Also, I think it's an underlying theme in this au that Steve lowkey (highkey, now) crushes on Peter, but it's not gonna be problematic or angsty at all. If anything, this chapter just opens up the possibility for poly Bucky/Peter/Steve (which, ok, yeah, I’m into that). 
> 
> Also, I saw Endgame last Thursday, and I swear there won't be any spoilers here at all, but I cannot recommend seeing that movie enough. It's heartbreaking and hilarious and intense and wonderful and if you haven't seen it, hot damn you should!!!
> 
> rating: explicit (sexual content)  
> notes/warnings: sex things but not actual sex, uhh potential poly

Steve's not sure how the hell he got here. 

  
  
Ok, that's a blatant lie, he knows exactly how he got here, but it's so fucking crazy that he still can't believe it. 

  
  
Bucky is on vacation with his mom. They're in Canada because she was meeting a friend and there'd been so much going on recently that he'd gone with so they could spend the week together. Steve misses his friend, probably more than what he should for just a week, but he's not sure if he should count this as a blessing or a curse. 

  
  
Bucky and Peter had been... talking. Talking about things that Steve wasn't sure of, for a while before Bucky was supposed to leave. And they'd both been acting a little differently? Bucky had been asking Steve about Peter, what he thinks of the kid, and apparently he'd been asking Peter about Steve, too. 

  
  
And then very suddenly, Bucky was explaining his plan to Steve, and Steve was cherry red in the face, wide eyed with his jaw dropped-- which was really awkward because he's pretty sure his mouth had watered. 

  
  
Apparently, Peter has a problem that Bucky helps with. And Bucky came up with a plan for while he's gone. 

  
  
Bucky trusts Steve. Peter trusts Steve. Steve trusts them both. 

  
  
Steve wants to say that Bucky is a psycho and Peter’s lost it and he’s gone crazy himself, too, because this is just _insane_ , what they’re doing, but he wouldn’t say any of that now, because he’s pretty sure this is what heaven is supposed to be like. 

 

He’s having a hard time thinking, or comprehending anything at all, so he kind of just gives up on logical thought and does what he wants. 

 

He’s still not sure if this situation is a gift from Bucky or if his best friend is the devil incarnate, but he doesn’t actually care right at this moment, because there’s an angel underneath him. 

 

Steve keeps his eyes open. He wants to see everything, wants to burn it into his memory for the late nights and stolen moments in the shower. Peter’s on his back, one arm thrown over his face to hide his closed, teary eyes, his other hand clutching the sheets by his head. His hair is a little messy and he’s flushed the prettiest pink, his mouth open as he’s panting and sighing and moaning. 

 

Steve is between the boy’s legs, one hand on his soft thigh, mouth leaving wet kisses and licks to his (surprisingly) taut tummy. Two of his fingers are buried almost completely inside Peter’s tight hole, slick with lube, massaging his best friend’s boyfriend’s prostate. 

 

Steve cannot fucking believe this. _Them_. 

 

Bucky had pulled him aside one day, and they sat out on the bleachers during lunch, alone and a little chilly. He asked Steve for a favor, if Steve was up for it. Comfortable with it. 

 

Bucky explained the situation. Made his offer. Steve choked on his drink and spent three minutes hacking up a lung before he’d been able to speak again. Then he made Bucky swear on his life he wasn’t fucking with him, made him repeat himself four times, and finally had been shocked silent. Bucky waited it out, before Steve relented with throwing his hands in the air and saying ‘fuck it, sure, why not’. 

 

The thing is, Steve’s kind of awkward. Not the smoothest talker in the world. But he channeled every ounce of the charm and social skill and confidence of all his friends, going so far as to imagine how Tony would handle it, so that he could knock on the door to the Parker’s apartment that first night.

 

May was working. Peter answered the door wearing a hoodie that swamped him (Steve recognized the sweatshirt. It’s one of Bucky’s) and already blushing. He’d been so nervous, Steve had asked him every two minutes if he was sure about this, comfortable with it. The boy assured every time that he was, so long as Steve was, he’s just only ever been with Bucky and this is all kind of crazy, he’d just been feeling a little keyed up. 

 

Steve summoned his inner Tony Stark and thinking of Bucky’s advice and terms, he’d managed to get them to Peter’s bed. He only used his hand that first night, nothing but stroking the boy and whispering in the kid’s ear with the kind of praise Bucky had told him about. 

 

Bucky didn’t really set ‘rules’, per se. He trusts Peter and Steve both to be responsible and considerate on their own. Mostly he just gave Steve some guidance, some advice. What to say and what to do and how to go about it all. 

 

Bucky’s the one that told him that (if he wants to) he should use his mouth. 

 

So on the second night, as Steve is sucking a hickey on the previously unblemished, milky skin of Peter’s belly and leaving finger shaped bruises on his pretty thigh, and Peter is wiggling and whimpering, he pulls back just enough so that he can take Peter’s length into his mouth. 

 

He takes it all in one go, plenty of experience from his past relationships (neither Bucky nor Tony are particularly small-- Peter kind of is, a little), and tastes bitter, sweet precome on his tongue. Peter makes a sound like a yelp and a groan, his hips stuttering like he’s trying not to buck them up. 

 

Steve takes pity on him and starts bobbing his head right away, closing his lips tight and sucking, laving the underside of Peter’s cock with his tongue. The boy’s moans get higher pitched and shorter, and Steve watches his chest heaving, feels his thighs shaking. 

 

“S-Ste-eve, p-please,” Peter whimpers, and Steve groans because _fuck_ , that’s so cute and _so hot_. He’s crazy hard right now but that isn’t part of the deal, so if Peter doesn’t want anything to do with that, he won’t press it. But it makes him more desperate to get home (or at least to his car), and more desperate to make the angel under him come undone. 

 

Steve hollows his cheeks and grinds the pads of his fingers into Peter’s sweet spot, and the poor kid doesn’t even last another minute before his incoherent babbling turns into attempted warnings. Steve doesn’t pull away until there’s hot come spilling into his mouth, and he swallows it all, licking Peter’s cock clean. He pulls off gently, stilling his fingers but not removing them just yet, and laps up the mess of precome from the younger teen’s tummy. 

 

Steve pulls away slowly, waiting for Peter’s breathing to slow down a little. There’s a towel next to him that he grabs to gently wipe away what’s left of his saliva and the lube on (in) Peter and his fingers. 

 

The smaller boy doesn’t move for a while longer. When he does take his arm away, his face is flushed and his eyes are still glossy, tear streaks on his cheeks, and he bites his lip as he looks up at the senior. 

 

“Th-thanks, Steve,” he whispers. His voice sounds wrecked. Steve smiles at him, because this kid is probably the most precious boy in the world, and leans down to kiss his forehead. 

 

“Definitely not a problem, Pete.” He says, and Peter giggles a little. Steve helps him sit up and stays with him a little while, holding the younger close, running a hand through his hair, keeping a blanket wrapped around him, telling him sweet nothings and praise in a hushed voice. Aftercare. Bucky stressed on that a lot. 

 

Peter almost passes out (maybe he actually does) in Steve’s embrace and the older teen almost forgets about how painfully hard he is, up until Peter looks up at him with the most innocent face (how the hell is he doing that?) and nervously offers to return the favor. 

 

And, _fuck_ , Steve is going to have to put conscious effort into not getting used to this. Not getting used to having such a sweet, beautiful boy under him. Not getting used to having his mouth on creamy skin and his hands around those pretty thighs. Not getting used to having such perfect lips wrapped around his own cock. Not getting used to the melodic moans and whimpers that escape the gorgeous boy. 

 

Because it’s only for a week, Steve reminds himself. This is his best friend's boyfriend and this setup will only last five more days. His best friend’s boyfriend. Just one week. 

 

Steve thinks about how pretty Peter is. He thinks about the very late nights and very early mornings with Bucky in Steve’s room, on his twin sized bed together. He thinks about what he feels for his best friend, and what he feels for the precious kid he’s with now. He thinks about them, and about this right now, and he thinks, as the wet heat of Peter’s mouth surrounds him;

 

Maybe it doesn’t have to end when Bucky gets back. 

 

He groans and runs his fingers through soft, chestnut brown curls.

 

They’ll talk about it. 


	8. Peter Gets Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is hurt and a bit sick. But it's ok, because Bucky. 
> 
> rating: mature (language)  
> notes/warnings: non-graphic mentions of a knee + ankle injury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a partial sick fic but Peter is hurt + has a cold, Bucky takes care of him (per usual). 
> 
> This is short! I have so much to do! I wrote this over the course of multiple days so I hope you like it!!

Peter is. Not feeling his very best. 

 

A week ago he fucked up his leg trying to “sled” down a flight of stairs at the park with a trash can lid ( _"Like in the old movies!!” Ned had said_ ), so now he’s stuck with a knee brace and his ankle wrapped in an elastic bandage, crutches under either of his arms. 

 

Peter is decidedly not excited about his decreased mobility and the fact that he can hardly ‘walk’ the length of a hallway without getting tired. He’s also not very thrilled about Bucky’s excuse to baby him. 

 

Ok. He won’t lie. The way Bucky always takes care of him? How gentle and considerate he is all the time? That’s nice. Peter likes it probably more than he should. He’s not a big fan of the senior (and, coincidentally, all of his friends other than Natasha and Tony) treating him like he’s delicate, though. 

 

It’s not a big problem. Peter complains and tries to brush off the mother hen of a boyfriend he has while maintaining a playful tone, and Bucky makes quips about needing to cover him in bubble wrap, but despite how annoying the worrying is— it’s all still very endearing. 

 

Tonight, though, Peter doesn’t really have the energy to care if Bucky and Co. act like he’ll crumble if the wind blows too strong. He’s _tired_. 

 

Topping off the situation, Peter has a cold. He got caught in the rain a few days ago and because apparently his immune system is non-existant, now he’s got a headache and his body aches and his throat is scratchy. He took meds an hour ago, a while before he came to the game (it’s a small one. Home game against a school they always win against), and they’re just starting to kick in when the last whistle blows.

 

Peter and Bucky haven’t gotten to spend time together in a couple days, and Peter told the older they should wait to hang out until he’s not sick, but the senior insisted. So after school ended on this typical Friday, the younger set an alarm so he could meet Bucky at the school after soccer, and took a nap. 

 

He’s standing outside the fenced in area and slowly makes his way into the sidelines, crutching through short grass. 

 

He’s just finally made it to a bench outside the big double doors of the school, finally plopping down, when the recently finished (and winning) varsity team exits the building. Steve, Bucky and Tony are somewhere in the middle of the crowd, casually making their way out of the stream of teammates, most of them going to watch the junior varsity game. 

 

“Hey, baby!” Bucky pipes, flashing Peter that stupidly (wonderfully) charming smile. Peter grins back, his boyfriend’s cheeks still a little flushed, his hair pulled back into a quick-shower wet bun (Peter’s not snuggling with him until he washer his hair with shampoo). 

 

“Hey,” he says, quieter than he meant to. Wow, his throat hurts. 

 

Bucky kind of coos at him, walking up and standing next to Peter’s leg, taking the smaller hand in his own and kissing it, making the smaller teen blush. 

 

“What's up Pete?” Tony greets, coming up to elbow Bucky in the back, a smirk on his face. 

 

“Hi Tony, hi Steve,” Peter murmurs shyly, feeling his cheeks just growing hotter. Bucky has no problem being affectionate towards him in front of his (their?) friends, and the others don't seem to mind at all (other than to make fun of them), but Peter's still awkward about it. Steve smiles gently at him and Peter looks up at Bucky, who’s watching him with a soft expression. 

 

“I just sat down.” Peter groans. Bucky laughs, then drops down to squat in front of him. 

 

“I’ll give you a lift,” the senior smirks, turning his back to his younger boyfriend. The boy beams at the idea of a piggyback ride, his arms and legs feeling achy and wobbly, and leans forward, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck and shoulders. Bucky grabs the smaller under the thighs, tugging him forward and onto his back. 

 

He stands quickly, making Peter let out a yelp of surprise that has his pink flush turning cherry red, and hides his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck— oblivious to the fond smiles of the three seniors. 

 

He reaches back to grab his crutches but they’re lifted away by Steve, who offers to carry them with a cheeky grin. Peter thanks him a bit bashfully and winds his legs around Bucky’s waist, settling in for the short trek back to the field. 

 

The junior varsity game is nearing its end when the group gets there, joining the other remaining varsity team members in watching from the side lines. Peter can’t see at all, even on Bucky’s back, so he beckons his boyfriend towards the bleachers just behind them. Using the older's  shoulders to brace himself and his one good leg, Peter carefully clambers off the teen and onto the bleacher, standing up at his full height. 

 

Bucky eyes him cautiously, steadying him with hands on his side and arm and a nervous sounding ‘Pete, baby, what are you doing’, ‘please be careful’, and ‘maybe you should just sit down’. Steve hands him his crutches back dutifully with a less-than-thrilled expression at his antics, Peter grinning a wide, grateful smile to him. He aims for a peppy (though, ultimately sounds as pitifully tired as he feels), “Thank you!” in response. 

 

Crutches on the bleachers and secure under the younger’s arms, Bucky keeps a handful of Peter’s jacket in his fist even after finally relenting and turning back to the game. 

 

For the next half hour, until their team inevitably wins, every time Peter sways slightly or re-adjusts (he’s feeling really, very tired), Bucky’s head whips around to him, other arm coming up to make sure he’s not going to have to catch the boy. And every time, Peter smiles reassuringly down at him with a sleepy but genuine, ‘I’m fine, babe’. 

 

When the game finally ends, Bucky turns to Peter with a small, content grin. He leans forward, wrapping his arms loosely around the younger’s thighs, level with his shoulders, resting his cheek against the sensitive middle between the boy’s stomach and chest. Peter leans into him, one hand leaving a crutch under his armpit to rest his forearm across Bucky’s shoulder, falling against the older’s chocolate brown hair to scratch lightly at his scalp.

 

“Mmm,” Bucky hums, thumbs soothingly rubbing the sides of Peter’s thighs where his arms are wound all around the boy. “I love you more than everything,” he muses, kissing Peter’s torso through the hoodie exposed by his open jacket. Peter sighs in content. 

 

“I love you more than everything, too,” he whispers.

 

Somewhere beside them Tony makes an exaggerated gagging sound. 

 

“Stop being cute, it’s making me sick!” He exclaims dramatically, but when Peter and Bucky both look over with their amused smirks, their friend is smiling. Steve laughs at him, throwing a fond grin towards the couple and patting Tony’s arm.  

 

A yawn takes Peter not entirely by surprise and he pulls away from Bucky just a little to cover his mouth slightly. The older teen looks up at him, adoration on his face. 

 

“Lets go home, yeah? You should get to bed,” Bucky says softly. All Peter can do is nod, honestly not sure if he’s still be standing without his boyfriend’s support. 

 

Bucky nods back, shooting off a quick goodbye to his friends and turning around again. Peter clings to him easily, holding his crutches out in front of them both as Bucky carries him to the car. 

 

The senior helps the younger in carefully, opening and closing the door for him, guiding him into the passenger seat. Peter’s pretty sure he falls asleep on the drive to Bucky’s house. The medication must be (finally, finally) hitting him with full force. His knee aches, though. His whole body does, really, but his knee especially. 

 

He refuses Bucky’s offer to carry him again and crutches his way into the older’s house. Bucky’s mom calls out a greeting to them, which Peter very sleepily responds to in sync with the other’s ‘hey, ma!’. 

 

“Ok, ok, come ‘ere,” Bucky says softly. He takes Peter’s crutches from him and leans them up against the wall in front of the stairs, which the smaller had been staring at with heavy eyelids. He is not feeling up for stairs. It’s ok, though, because Bucky sweeps him up so incredibly carefully as to not hurt the boy’s leg, and carries him bridal style up the steps. Peter clings tiredly to Bucky’s neck and shirt, barely awake when his boyfriend lays him down on a soft mattress. 

 

Bucky must go shower, because when Peter wakes up to the older slipping into bed in front of him, he smells like shampoo and body wash instead of barely-suppressed sweat. He snakes his arms around the smaller teen’s waist and pulls him against him, cautious of his injuries. 

 

“‘m gonna get you sick…” Peter mumbles, barely audible. He can feel Bucky smile against his forehead, planting a kiss to the pale skin. 

 

“I’ll be fine. It’s ok, sweetheart. Go to sleep.” Bucky hushes him. Peter nods against the other, snuggling up closer to him. Bucky radiates warmth and holds him tight, and Peter sighs happily. He hopes, despite all, that he actually doesn’t get Bucky sick, too, and lets sleep take him. 


	9. Jealous Bucky pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky gets jealous again, and fucks Peter into the mattress. 
> 
> rating: explicit (sexual content)   
> notes/warnings: jealousy, (very) possessive behavior, rough(er) sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, back at it again with the sin. 
> 
> Really, where am I getting this stuff. All my monkey brain can write is porn. You're welcome? Sorry. This chapter takes place some time (probably shortly) after chapter 7 with Steve. 
> 
> Hope you like it <3

Bucky is brooding again. He knows he is. He might even be bordering on pouting, right now, but brooding for sure.

 

He's leaned up against his car with his arms crossed and one foot hooked around the other, a small scowl on his face. Leather jacket on, he looks like the moody asshole boyfriend from every 80's high school rom com. It's kind of annoying, he thinks, but he can't bring himself to care.

  
He's waiting for Peter to meet him in the parking lot, and had perked up so much at first when the younger stepped out of the big school doors. Only for his grin to fall into a definitely not pout when Wade fucking Wilson followed the boy out, the two engaged in what looks like a fun, light-hearted conversation.

  
Peter is allowed to be friends with Wade. Peter can be friends with whoever and do whatever he wants and Bucky respects that.

  
But Bucky told Wade to stop flirting with his boyfriend (Wilson had brushed him off with a stupid smirk and his hands up in surrender). 

 

Wade has not stopped flirting with his boyfriend.

  
Now, the guy's got his arm around Peter's shoulders, saying Bucky-doesn't-know-what but making the younger teen laugh, and he has Peter tucked against him, and Bucky knows he's being ridiculous but something primitive flares up in him and he narrows his eyes at them (well, at Wade). 

  
_No, no no no, hands off, Wilson. He's mine._

  
Peter laughs again at whatever Wade says, his beautiful smile taking over his face. Bucky feels his stomach tighten. 

  
He tries to ease his scowl as much as possible, hopefully resolving it to a mildly displeased frown, as the two approach his car. 

  
"Alright, bye Wade!" Peter says, leaving the other's arm and skipping off the sidewalk towards Bucky's car. 

  
"See you tomorrow, baby boy!" Wade calls after him, painfully infuriating smirk on his face. Asshole knows exactly what he's doing. The pet name he gives Peter certainly doesn't help, either.

  
"Hey Bucky, earth to Bucky," Peter's saying. Bucky looks down and sees his boyfriend halfway around the car, on his way to the passenger seat. The younger has his eyebrows raised and an amused but soft expression on his face. Bucky relaxes just looking at him, cracking an apologetic smirk. 

  
"Sorry baby," he sighs, opening his door and sliding into the car.

 

“You really don’t like Wade at all, do you.” Peter muses once they’re buckled up and the older is putting the gears in reverse. He doesn’t say it like it’s a question, though.

 

“No, I really don’t,” Bucky turns to look at Peter, and contrasting to the heat he feels just thinking about Wilson being all over his boyfriend, takes one of the boy’s much smaller hands and brings it to his face, kissing over each knuckle. 

 

He can hear the content sigh Peter lets out over the rumbling of the car engine, and smiles to himself against the back of the younger teen’s hand. Peter tells him about his advanced physics class and Ned building a tower out of their homework packets as they drive, and Bucky tells him about how Natasha ‘almost physically fought’ their history teacher earlier. He had no idea what was going on, because he zoned out probably twenty minutes before the redhead got angry, but Tony, Bruce, and Clint looked almost murderous, so he kind of just hopped on their side. Peter laughs at that story, and tells the senior that Natasha kind of reminds him of MJ. 

 

Which is terrifying, if Bucky’s honest, because both girls could and probably will set the world on fire.

 

When they finally get to Bucky’s house, Peter collapses on the kitchen floor just as the older’s mother is packing up a bag. She leaves with apologies about her shift tonight and kisses to both boys’ heads, telling them there’s some sandwich stuff in the fridge. Peter gives her a big smile and Bucky kisses her on the cheek, wishing she had a more regular schedule but admiring her nonetheless. 

 

For the next two hours, the teenagers relax on Bucky’s bed together. They do their chemistry homework, the older realizing that the only time he avoids half-assing his work is when he’s with Peter. And then somehow, amidst textbooks and blankets, Peter ends up laying on top of Bucky, his back stretched over the senior’s legs and his head hanging off, one arm flopped ‘accidentally’ to be in Bucky’s face. 

 

Bucky, sitting with his back against the headboard, pushes his laptop (an episode of The Office forgotten) out of the way. He outright licks Peter’s hand where it’s draped against his face, and the boy pulls back with a cute, exaggerated “eeew”. 

 

He occupies himself with drumming his palms lightly on his boyfriend’s stomach. Peter giggles and looks up at him, staring for a few moments before he groans and drops his head back. 

  
“What?” Bucky smirks. Peter just groans again. “Come on, what is it?” The senior presses, digging his fingers into the younger’s ribs to make him squirm and laugh. 

 

“You’re hot. You’re really hot and it’s, honestly it’s so unfair.” Peter grumbles. Bucky just grins at him. 

 

“Yeah?” He questions, his smile somewhere between smug and fond. Let it be said, James Barnes is in no shortage of confidence. Hearing Peter talk about him like that, though? That’s nice. Even if the boy regularly looks at him like he’s the reason the sun rises and the earth spins. 

 

(And, yeah, ok, so Bucky looks at Peter like that, too.)

 

“Yeah. You’re amazing, Bucky, seriously, and really, _really_  hot.” Peter sighs. He looks up at the older teen with something both playful and adoring, smiling softly. Bucky grins back at him, then snatches up one of his hands again, kissing it. He starts with his palm and works his way around, then moves up the smaller boy’s arm. 

 

Peter slowly sits up until he’s off Bucky’s lap, and then the senior slips his hand behind his boyfriend’s neck, pulling him in and kissing him.

 

The kisses start out gentle, like they always do, slow and unhurried. But it doesn’t take long at all for them to get a little needier, a little more heated. Bucky’s holding Peter’s face with both hands, the younger gripping the older’s shirt at the stomach, when Peter’s phone buzzes. 

 

And buzzes. 

 

And buzzes.

 

The notifications keep going off and eventually Bucky pulls away from his little love with a sigh, reaching around and grabbing Peter’s phone. When he wakes up the screen, he feels something hot pooling in his stomach, different from the heat that Peter gives him. 

 

“What, who is it?” The smaller asks, a little breathless, leaning forward to see. “Oh.” His quiet voice says, and Bucky unlocks his phone. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s happy that Peter makes no move to question or stop him as he opens up Wade’s contact in his messenger and mutes the guy’s texts. 

 

Wade fucking Wilson. Spamming the kid with completely irrelevant and useless messages for no reason at all, other than annoying Bucky, most likely. It’s easy for Wade to guess they’re together right now. On one hand; annoy Bucky, the other; actually talk to Peter. A win-win for that asshole and, wow, Bucky _really does not like him_. 

 

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” Bucky echoes, turning back to his boyfriend. “He can’t leave you alone for one afternoon, can he?” He adds, a little sharp, but he knows Peter knows it’s not aimed at him. The younger boy cringes a little anyways, in empathy if anything, and shifts where he sits. 

 

“He’s... um... he’s just like that, I guess.” He tries. Valiant effort, Bucky thinks.

 

“Mhm, yeah,” the older adds, moving forward to kiss up Peter’s jaw and nip at his earlobe, “he’s gonna have to stop being like that, ‘cause I don’t appreciate him being all over you, and it kind makes me want to punch him,” he murmurs, latching onto a particularly soft spot on Peter’s neck. The younger teen whimpers, letting out shaky sighs and threading his fingers in Bucky’s hair. 

 

“Babe, hey, you know you have nothing to worry about, right?” Peter says, and despite how breathless he is (because _Bucky_  can get him that way, easily, and better than Wade ever could. Just for the record) he sounds genuinely concerned, so the senior pulls back a little and kisses him on the nose. 

 

“I know, doll, I know.” Bucky assures, and then he’s moving and guiding Peter down, climbing on top of him, caging him in with his hands planted beside the boy’s head and his knees outside Peter’s thighs. “I still hate it when he touches you,” he starts again, dropping down to mouth at the divot in the base of Peter’s neck. “Prick knows exactly what he’s doing.” 

 

Peter’s fingers are still in his hair, grounding him. 

 

“You’re being jealous again,” his soft voice says. God, he even _sounds_  like an angel. Bucky licks the hickey he just made and works on removing Peter’s shirt. 

 

“We went over this already,” he mumbles. Peter lifts his arms to help remove his top, then grabs at Bucky’s too. They get it off together and Peter sighs as Bucky starts kissing at his chest. 

 

“He’s just messing around. Have you considered that maybe you’re overre-” Peter cuts himself off with a gasp and a sharp arch of his back when Bucky bites down (not too hard) on one of his nipples. 

 

Bucky just smirks and continues kissing a trail down Peter’s pretty skin towards the waist of his jeans. He unbuttons them and pulls them down, tossing them to some forgotten part of his room and braces himself as he kneels between Peter’s legs, one hand rubbing soothing circles onto the smaller boy’s belly. He kisses pale thighs softly, reveling in the warmth radiating off his boy. 

 

_His boy_. 

 

“I’m the only one who should be touching you,” he whispers lowly, pushing Peter’s boxers up high and mouthing at his upper thigh. He looks up at the younger teen and sees him propped up on his elbows, a devious look on his face, and Bucky can only imagine what the little shit is about to say. 

 

“What about Steve?” Peter asks in a faux innocent voice. Bucky rolls his eyes and nips at the boy’s creamy skin. The younger laughs breathlessly and the senior looks up at him again. 

 

“Ok. Me, and Steve on a good day,” he smirks, and knows Peter probably would’ve said another snarky thing if he didn’t take that moment to mouth over the younger’s crotch, through his boxers. Peter moans, high pitched and needy, bucking his hips up a little. Bucky grins and kisses his tummy, just above the waistband of his boxers. 

 

“Grab me a-” the older starts to request but when he looks up, Peter’s already reaching into the bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom. Bucky grins at him, taking the items. They work out of the rest of their clothing fast, almost frantically, as Peter tugs Bucky back up so they can kiss. 

 

The older pops the cap on the lube and coats his fingers generously, a little messily, caught up in kissing the boy under him. Peter jumps a bit at the first contact to his entrance, so Bucky rubs slow circles around the pink rim until he sees tension leaving Peter’s body. 

 

He pushes one finger in slowly, an inch at a time into his boyfriend’s tight heat. The younger sighs against his mouth, shifting where he lays. Bucky gets a little lost in kissing him, stretches him with only one finger longer than he needs to, but neither care. Peter’s grinding very gently, subconsciously up against him and the friction where their two hard lengths are trapped between them is faint but delicious regardless. 

 

By the time Bucky works up to a second and third finger, both he and Peter are sweating. Peter is clinging to him, one hand still tangled in his hair and the other holding the older teen’s bicep, moaning in between kisses. Bucky pecks him one more time on the lips, kissing his chin and jaw, before he removes his fingers and pulls away. 

 

He doesn’t move far, just enough to put space between him and Peter. He opens the little package for the condom with his teeth, loving the way Peter watches him, shivering and swallowing hard. Bucky rolls the rubber on and slicks up his length, Peter spreading his legs wider and hooking his ankles behind Bucky. His heel digs in a little to the small of the senior's back and guides him, pulling him in, and Bucky takes the hint. 

 

He holds himself up and lets his tip rest against Peter’s rim, before the boy’s insistent legs and his own need have him pushing forward. The resistance gives way quickly and he moves faster than he usually would, sliding in all the way in a short amount of time. 

 

He groans as he moves, moaning against Peter’s collar bones as his boyfriend pants for breath, whimpering in his ear. He knows how Peter looks right now, has seen it plenty before, but he needs to watch him again, so he forces himself up as he buries inside the younger boy completely. 

 

Peter’s fucking _gorgeous_. He’s beautiful, blushing that ridiculously pretty pink, kiss-swollen lips parted and glistening, his big doe eyes gleaming up at Bucky, half lidded and watery. Bucky wants to kiss him— so he does. 

 

He slots their lips together and gives a tentative, short thrust out and back in. Peter moans at the action, his heels pulling Bucky in a little tighter. 

 

“Ah, y-you,” Peter tries, and Bucky busies himself kissing the boy’s cheeks and nibbling on his earlobe so the younger can speak. “You can go fast this time,” he whispers. Bucky feels Peter’s fingers pressing down a little harder on his arm and he smiles against his boy’s neck. 

 

“Yeah? Think you want it a little harder, sweetheart?” He says, accentuating himself by snapping his hips again. Peter gasps and squeezes his eyes shut, head thrown back, but he’s nodding. 

 

“Yes, yes, please, Bucky,” he chants. And, _fuck_ , Bucky is _weak_  for this kid. 

 

He starts out slow, because he knows he should, pulling out and sliding back in carefully to make sure Peter’s actually ready. But his boyfriend feels relaxed enough, always so goddamn tight, though not so much Bucky’s worried. So he thrusts harder, experimentally, and Peter moans so prettily that he does it again. And again. 

 

He sets up a fast pace, rougher, losing his breath in the sheer _heat_. 

 

Because _shit_ , Peter is hot. 

 

He’s radiating warmth where their stomachs and chests are almost pressed together, his hands searing where they cling to Bucky. He’s so beautiful and so ridiculously cute and _burning_  hot inside, his hole a canvas of fire and slick, pulling Bucky in, filling pressure into his gut. 

 

He brings one hand to Peter’s hips, to hold the boy still, to drag him back into every thrust. And he drops down after, wrapping his other arm around Peter’s middle, bracing his weight on his forearm where it’s behind his boyfriend’s back, pulling the smaller teen impossibly closer. Peter lets go of his arm and hair, winding both arms around Bucky’s shoulders and neck, clinging to him.

 

Bucky buries his face in Peter’s collar bones, kissing up and down his neck, leaving hickeys and not caring who sees them. 

 

No, actually. He does care. He wants people to see them, he wants _Wade_  to see them. Wants Wade Wilson to see how completely _littered_  Peter’s neck is with love bites and know that _Bucky_ is the one who put them there. 

 

Hot possession swells up inside him and he bites down right under Peter’s ear, where he knows the boy is oh-so sensitive. Peter clenches down around him, whimpering in response. 

 

“Every time, baby, every fucking time. When he puts his arm around you or grabs your hand or messes up your hair, every fucking time I _hate_  it,” Bucky damn near growls, his voice low and mixed up with a whole mess of emotions, something jealous and protective and longing and loving. He gently kisses the spot he bit in apology, but snaps his hips a little harder, nailing Peter’s prostate and making the boy cry out.

 

“Bucky, _fuck_ , I don’t want anyone else, I, I don’t want anyone else to touch me, just you, just you— ” Peter babbles. Bucky makes sure he keeps the angle the same, knowing, feeling every forceful thrust hit his boy’s sweet spot, the way Peter gets tighter and his body tries to jackknife in response, but is held down by Bucky on top of him. 

 

He smiles at the confession (as if he didn’t already know) and feels Peter panting into the crook of his neck, kissing his shoulder. His skin is wet and he’s not sure if it’s his own sweat, Peter’s tears, or Peter’s saliva, but he doesn’t care at all. He just holds the boy as close and tight as he can. Holds him and knows he must be bruising Peter’s hips, loving how he can feel the slick between them. Peter’s little cock is still trapped by their bodies, rubbing along Peter’s smooth tummy and Bucky’s abs, leaking precome and no doubt flushed a pretty red. 

 

Peter whimpers at an especially harsh thrust, but doesn’t tell Bucky to stop, or even to slow down, just keeps his arms and legs wound around the older teen and moans against him. Bucky can feel Peter’s lithe hips stuttering against him as he tries to get that wonderful last bit of friction to tip him over the edge. The older grins, groaning at how perfectly his boy’s hole squeezes around him, and starts to whisper to him. 

 

“Perfect, Peter, you’re fucking perfect. So good, baby, taking me so well, you’re everything. Love you so much, sweetheart, my precious, brilliant, beautiful boy,” he says, kissing every inch of Peter’s neck and shoulder and chest that he can get his mouth to. Peter lets out a feminine, broken up moan and a short sob at the praise, and Bucky can feel how his rabbit-paced heartbeat picks up even more. 

 

"Bucky, I-ah, nnhh, l-love you, love you so much, I-" the younger boy babbles, his voice turning into incoherent warnings, and Bucky does his best to nail Peter’s prostate and grind his entire length along the sweet spot, consequently rubbing down more against his boyfriend’s trapped cock. It’s not a minute later that Peter cries out and Bucky feels hot come spilling out to the limited space between them, painting both of their middles. 

 

His orgasm makes him unbelievably tighter, makes him arch his back and make the hottest sounds and bite down a little on Bucky’s shoulder, and the older teen doesn’t last much longer at all before he feels all the heat and pressure building up rupture. 

 

Pleasure goes rushing through him and Bucky comes with a long, deep moan, muffling himself against Peter’s jaw. He feels himself spilling out and making everything even hotter, before all the tension leaves him and he goes almost lax.

 

He has to take his hand off Peter’s waist, but his arms feel too weak to hold himself up, so he just falls on his side and brings Peter with him; softening inside the boy as the younger softens between them, both panting for breath and not letting go. 

 

They lay on Bucky’s bed until they can breathe normally, and Bucky kisses away the few tears that slipped out of Peter’s big brown eyes. He slips out carefully, both of them wincing at the action, and ties off the condom, tossing it into the trash bin in the corner of the room. He brushes through the smaller teen’s messy hair and hushes him, peppering kisses all over his face. 

 

“Did so good baby, so good, always so perfect for me, my little lover boy, always so perfect,” Bucky coos, nosing at Peter’s forehead and temple. The younger preens at the affection, wiggling closer in Bucky’s embrace. 

 

They lay together for a while longer, until the drying sweat and come and lube around them become uncomfortable and they have to clean up. Peter stands up slowly, and starts to shuffle away, but Bucky drags him back into his arms, kissing him. They walk backwards (or, rather, Bucky walks Peter backwards) into the bathroom across the hall from the senior's room. 

 

Peter gets the water temperature right while the older teen kisses him, running his hands over Peter’s body, through the mess on his stomach, around his back. In the shower, Bucky washes Peter and the smaller boy pouts about Bucky being too tall. So the senior kneels down and holds Peter around his thighs, resting his chin against the boy’s belly and leaning his head back, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of his boyfriend running his fingers through sex-messy hair. 

 

They don’t bother with clothing other than boxers, Peter borrowing a pair of Bucky’s (considering his still have a damp spot on the front), and fall into the older’s bed together. Bucky brings his laptop back up towards them, picking a new episode of The Office for them to watch. 

 

He holds Peter close, both teens wrapping their arms around each other and basking in the heat of skin-to-skin contact— savoring the closeness. Sighing with an only partly guilty realization, Bucky pats around blindly until he finds Peter’s phone, bringing it back up and handing it sheepishly to the younger. 

 

Peter takes it with a soft sigh and a small, sweet smile. 

 

“Bucky?” (Voice of an angel, that’s what he has.)(An angel, that’s what he is.)

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Why weren’t you like this about the whole,” a pause, “‘Steve’ thing?” Peter asks quietly. Bucky hums.

 

“Well,” he begins, “because I know Steve,” better than anyone, “and I trust him,” more than almost anyone else, “and I actually _l_ _ike_  Steve,” very, very much. “ _Wade_  is a prick who keeps coming on to you. Difference. _Big_  difference,” he finishes, fingers teasing at Peter’s ribs, making the boy squirm and laugh breathlessly. 

 

“Fair enough,” Peter grins. They lay in silence for a little bit, the younger teen studying his phone screen absently before he speaks again. 

 

“You know, it’s probably not healthy for you to get so jealous about a guy who doesn’t hold a candle to you,” he pauses to tilt his head up and look at Bucky from under long lashes, beautiful chocolate colored eyes innocent and a little bashful, “but I won’t lie, it’s kinda hot. Kinda really hot.” 

 

Bucky smirks at that and Peter giggles. 

 

“Yeah, ok,” the older agrees, nosing into Peter’s hair. “Sorry. I’ll work on that.” 

 

Peter hums contently and lifts himself enough to kiss Bucky’s cheek. 

 

“I love you.” He says. It sounds like a promise. Bucky smiles. 

 

“I love you, too.” He promises back. Peter preens, then gently turns to set his phone on the bedside table, snuggling back against Bucky, cheek against the older teen’s chest. 

 

“You aren’t gonna check?” Bucky asks, honestly a little bit surprised as he takes the boy back into his arms, rubbing Peter’s back soothingly. Peter just shrugs and kisses under Bucky’s collar bones. 

 

“It can wait.” He murmurs, already sleepy and winding down for an inevitable nap. Something possessive and proud settles contently in Bucky’s chest and he smiles, kisses the top of the smaller boy’s head, breathing in the smell of shampoo and Peter. He closes his eyes and can feel his boyfriend’s pulse where his chest pressed against Bucky’s middle. The heartbeat of an angel. 

 

_His_  angel.

 

(Everything else can wait.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks much for reading, hope you liked it !


	10. Note

Hey kiddos, I know I haven't posted in like two weeks anyways, but I'm going on vacation until July and won't be updating during that time. But I'll have lots to post when I get back!!! 

Thanks so much to everyone reading + all the lovely people who encourage me, stay safe, lots of love <3


	11. Over-Sensitive Peter pt. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve isn't sure if he should regret coming over or not, but the point is, he doesn't. Not at all. 
> 
> rating: explicit (sexual content)  
> notes/warnings: threesome (Steve is back), oral and anal sex, implied Steve/Tony, implied Tony/Pepper, this is pure filth and there's nothing I can do to fix that, orgasm delay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!! Vacation was amazing, thanks so much to everybody who wished me a good one, I might spontaneously respond to all of your comments at an ungodly hour of the morning, so, be forewarned. 
> 
> I'm posting two chapters tonight so if this isn't your cup of tea, you can just skip on over to the next one!
> 
> I have returned and I brought: porn. I brought smut. Sin. The works. You're welcome (I'm sorry?) I am, in fact, the most self indulgent writer I know.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone reading, it's still (barely) July 1st where I am so Far From Home comes out tomorrow, I won't be seeing it for another week, and I am afraid! I am afraid. That movie gives me fear ok I'm Worried, but So Excited.
> 
> In terms of timeline, this is probably recently before/after the Jealous Bucky pt. 2 chapter (so, post-Steve, post-'love you's).

Steve can't move. He's not sure if he can even breathe. And he definitely can't close his eyes or blink, even for one second. 

 

  
It's Saturday. Mrs. Barnes is spending the day with one of her friends, and Bucky had texted Steve if he wanted to come over. Hang out with Peter at Bucky's house, maybe watch a movie, talk. Eat a lot of snacks. The works. 

 

  
And of course, even though he could be writing an essay, because Steve is a goner for his best friend and his best friend's boyfriend, he was plenty eager to go over. 

 

  
Steve can admit without any heartache that he likes Peter, for his lovable personality and for the needy moans Steve now knows how to draw out of him; and he can easily admit that he's always liked Bucky— as a best friend and more.

 

  
And he knows that Bucky feels the same way; that Peter feels the same way, too. 

 

  
He also knows, and is quite content with the notion, that any and every romantic or sexual thing he might have with the couple isn't problematic— which is quite comforting considering Steve has no idea what he wants to do with his life in terms of romance and relationships (he likes Peggy Carter a lot, but, you know, he could probably marry Tony, assuming Pepper Potts (their other gentle spit-fire redhead friend) acknowledges that she's in love with that boy from their rival school... whatever his name was). 

 

  
So those precious moments of his life where he got to be with Bucky, and the week he was with Peter? Those moments are relaxing. 

 

  
Good sex. Actually, _great sex_ , really fucking fantastic sex— but he gets to stay for snuggling after. And when all is said and done, they're still close as close can be, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else. 

 

  
As for Bucky and Peter's perspective of their 'relationship'; Steve thinks the concept of sharing someone as sweet as Peter with his best friend has got to be some kind of kink for Bucky, and Peter almost definitely had a size thing, so— older and stronger people who he trusts a lot going down on him? Gotta be a win in that kid's book. 

 

  
Even without the sexual things, just being with them is relaxing. 

 

  
His best friend and a boy he's warmed up to more and faster than most anyone else, both more open and kind than pretty much anybody Steve's ever met— they're a comforting presence. Even if all they do is go out for ice cream or watch trashy tv while snuggling on the sofa.

 

  
What can Steve say? 

 

  
Regardless of the occasion or interaction, he loves being with them. 

 

  
So of course he immediately jumps on the opportunity to hang out, just the three of them. Even if all they do is settle on the couch with Peter laying on top of them, making bad jokes about the plot of whatever film they happen to find playing (which is honestly what he's expecting)— Steve wouldn't miss that special time with them. 

 

  
He's expecting snuggling on the couch. Or maybe board games. He's expecting for them to be too physical and affectionate to _not_  insinuate sexual compatibility, and maybe a few kisses will spread around; that sort of not-quite-platonic but not exactly sexual type of thing.

 

 

That's what he's expecting. 

 

  
And— well. 

 

  
Good god, he was wrong. 

 

  
So wrong.

 

  
So incredibly incorrect. 

 

  
He got to Bucky's house, texting his friend that he was there just as he strolled up to the door. Bucky immediately texted back, telling him to come on in and up to the other's bedroom. 

 

  
So Steve kicked off his shoes and hiked the stairs. He didn't bother to knock or anything as he opened Bucky's door.

 

  
And he's kind of getting déjà vu, to be honest. 

 

  
Walking in unannounced to Bucky and Peter together on Bucky's bed reminds him a lot of the day the Avengers team found out about the relationship. 

 

  
Except that was a G-rated nap date, and he was with a large group, and Peter was silently sleeping as Bucky groggily acknowledged his friends, seeming very slightly annoyed but mostly tired.

 

  
This... this is none of those things. None at all. 

 

  
Because right now, Steve is alone. Bucky is smirking at him like the devil himself. No one is asleep, and going by the way both of the other boys are naked and grinding against each other, Peter anything but silent, this is very, very much _not_  a G-rated situation. 

 

  
The sheets are a mess and _fuck_ , the curve of Bucky's back as he's grinding into Peter, rolling them together at the waist where Steve can just barely see how incredibly naked they are— h's already going crazy. 

 

  
His best friend's hair is pulled back into a bun and his arms are flexing as he holds himself up over Peter. He's looking at Steve, an evil, open-mouthed grin on his face. 

 

  
Steve can't figure out if he's supposed to stare at Bucky's body, the look his best friend is giving him, or the literal fucking angel under the older teen. 

 

  
Peter's arms are wrapped around Bucky's shoulders, but his head is thrown back, so Steve can trace the surprisingly defined line of his jaw. The younger's eyes are closed and he's blushing, his cheeks and down his neck (and probably the chest Steve can't really see) the prettiest pink. His lips look bitten red and wet, and _god_ , his mouth is open, making the hottest fucking sounds. 

 

  
Bucky moans lowly, but Steve still hears it, at a particular roll of his hips. The same action breaks Peter's breathing sighs and whimpers and makes him let out a little feminine cry. 

 

  
Fuck, the difference between Bucky's tanned skin and immensely defined  muscles and Peter's smooth, milky body, soft and small— Steve might start drooling or pass out. 

 

  
His mouth feels dry but he almost chokes on his own spit when Bucky lifts a hand and reaches out to him. 

 

  
"You coming over here or not?" The teen teases. Steve still can't move. He tries to talk, but just barely gets an unintelligible sound out. 

 

  
As soon as Bucky addresses his friend, Peter ducks his face into his boyfriend's shoulder (though not before Steve catches the little gasp and shade darker of pink his cheeks turn). 

 

  
Steve knows Peter is shy and nervous. He knows about as well as Bucky and Peter's closest friends. The kid is kind of insecure, though he tries not to be, and generally afraid of new things. 

 

  
Like, for example, being naked with his boyfriend while his boyfriend's fully dressed best friend watches from the doorway. 

 

  
Like, inviting his boyfriend's best friend join them. On the bed. Where they are so, _so_  naked right now.

 

  
And somehow that thought of consideration for Peter's pretty obvious anxiety snaps Steve (partly) out of it, and he fails at swallowing the lump in his throat, only to gape like a fish for a few seconds before speaking. 

 

  
"I, um, are you, are you sure?" Steve stumbles through the sentence. He doesn't need to ask if Bucky's serious (considering the history all three of them have). But. _Fuck_ , they've never done anything like this before, and Peter is straight up _hiding_  against Bucky, and Steve, God, he needs to be sure. He trusts Bucky (to speak for himself, to speak for Peter, to make decisions) to a level that's probably not healthy, but he _needs_ to be sure. 

 

  
Because the answer, obviously, is a massive _hell yes_  from him. 

 

  
Bucky grins at him, smirk relaxing every so slightly. "Yeah, Stevie, we're sure. Feel free to head home, or, I don't know, put on a movie downstairs. But if you wanna come over here, you better do it quick." He says. There's that dangerously flirtatious, challenging look in his eyes, and Steve clears his throat. 

 

  
He doesn't know what to do. 

 

  
Yeah, of course he wants to go over. He thinks he'd have an aneurysm if he waited downstairs, knowing they're up here. And he's not sure he could possibly convince his legs to take him away from this house while Bucky is towering over Peter like that. 

 

  
But. 

 

  
_Fuck_.

 

  
He still doesn't move, for a few more seconds, mesmerized watching the way Bucky lowers himself onto Peter and how Peter's legs are spread to make room, thighs and knees pressed up against Bucky's body. He doesn't move at all until Peter turns his head to face him. 

 

  
"Steve?" He begins, voice soft and a little wrecked sounding but looking at Steve so sweetly, still blushing shy but giving him the best reassuring smile he can with Bucky _grinding_ on him. "You can, if you want. We- I want you to, if that's ok," he finishes. 

 

  
The words have barely left his mouth before Steve's resolve is completely annihilated by the younger teen's breathy voice, pink cheeks, and swollen bottom lip caught under his teeth.

 

(If Bucky catches Steve by the sleeve later on and tells him about how he appreciates Steve waiting for Peter to speak for himself, how Bucky's "just... glad you're my friend, Steve. Glad the poor smuck we dragged into this is you", well. That's something that stays between them.)

 

  
In record timing, Steve has the door closed and is striding over. He loses his jacket and shirt on the way, but doesn't miss the way Peter's eyes widen and the boy downright gulps when Steve pulls off his shirt.

 

  
(The senior is... fit, to speak modestly. Quite fit.) 

 

  
He makes it to the bed in seconds, bare torso as he plants his hands on the mattress, giving Peter a peck on the forehead, to not overwhelm him too much, and turning to mouth at Bucky's neck. 

 

  
One of Peter's hands finds Steve's stomach and chest, running up and down it, lithe fingers ghosting over his rather chiseled torso. Bucky turns to Steve to catch him in a kiss (how is it possible for something to feel so goddamn _right_ ), and the other can feel the way his friend grinds down on account of Peter suddenly grabbing his side a little. 

 

  
Bucky breaks the kiss only to whisper in Steve's ear.

 

  
"The pants, Steve, they gotta go. You're- fuck, Pete- you're wearing too much. Too many clothes," he rambles a little. Steve laughs a bit breathlessly but pulls away to take off the rest of his clothes.

 

  
Bucky sits up, dragging Peter with him. He wraps an arm around Peter's waist as the younger cards his fingers through Bucky's hair, the two of them kissing hard. 

 

  
Steve loses his pants astonishingly fast and moves in, sliding behind Peter and planting a wet kiss on the smaller boy's shoulder. His hands roam Bucky's toned sides while he kisses all up Peter's back and neck, leaving wet spots in his wake.

 

  
Steve bites down on the boy's throat, not particularly hard, but it draws a full bodied shudder out of the younger boy that both seniors feel where he's trapped between them. 

 

  
Bucky breaks the kiss with his boyfriend to nip at Steve's ear, one hand moving between his and Peter's bodies to rub gently at the middle boy's chest. 

 

  
"Pete, remember what we talked about?" The dark haired teen rasps out. Peter whimpers and nods, leaving a quick kiss on his boyfriend's jaw and starting to turn around. 

 

  
The seniors back off a bit to give him room, Steve quirking an eyebrow at Bucky and letting Peter turn loosely in his arms. When the smaller boy faces him, he gives a small, soft smile, licking Steve's lips with a slow stripe that would've have instantly gotten the older hard, had he not been totally erect already. 

 

  
And then Peter pushes at his chest a little, shuffling back and leaning down, and there's no warning at all before he's taking the head of Steve's cock into his mouth. 

 

  
The wet heat of Peter's lips and tongue around him almost makes Steve shoot off right then and there, but he holds back with a deep, wrecked moan, hands flying to Peter's hair. 

 

  
The teen works at his length, sucking lightly and sliding his tongue around, as if he's exploring the territory. Steve tries his hardest to keep his eyes on the younger, lids open just enough for him to see Bucky sliding his hands down Peter's back and grabbing the smaller's pert ass. 

 

  
Steve watches with something like awe as Bucky lubes up his fingers, peppering kisses along Peter's spine and teasing the younger's hole. 

 

  
He can more feel than see when Bucky slips the tip of one digit in, because Peter tenses and moans and it sends vibrations up through Steve's cock that make him gush out some precome. 

 

  
"Holy shit," he breathes. Bucky laughs a little, scratchy despite his killer smirk, and pushes the finger in further. Steve thinks the other senior must have stretched his boyfriend some beforehand, too, because he's quick to slip in another finger, and a third, and quick to take his fingers out.

 

  
Peter moans and whimpers at the actions, drooling down Steve's cock, tongue laving at the underside of the hard length. There's so much wet around his cock and it's all so hot, the inside of Peter's mouth, the way the boy braces himself on Steve's upper thighs and keeps trying to move further down.

 

  
He tries to take more, chokes a little, pulls up and dives right back in like a cycle. A pattern of slick, tight warmth that feels like real actual heaven. 

 

  
Steve doesn't notice Bucky slicking up until he's pushing into Peter. 

 

  
The smaller teen lets out a purely pornographic moan when his boyfriend slides slowly inside him, and Steve can only imagine how his tight hole gives way to Bucky's cock, opening obscenely wide to take everything in. 

 

  
The visual just gets him hotter and Steve wonders how in the hell he hasn't shot off yet, blessing his attempt at stamina that he can watch this. 

 

  
Bucky, however, seems determined to get him off as embarrassingly fast as possible, because his best friend kisses his way up Peter's back as he pushes in, and then up Steve's stomach and chest, and once he's fully seated inside the younger, he drags Steve by the back of the neck into a kiss.

 

  
It's hot and messy and a little too much teeth, both of their focus very, very elsewhere. But it's good— terribly good, and Steve moans. He loses himself a little and his hips jerk forward, making Peter cough, but he can't pull off or apologize because Bucky's hands find his hips and pull him forward, kissing him harder.

 

  
Peter moans, having caught his breath somehow, and goes right back to sucking on Steve's cock like some kind of fucking lollipop. 

 

  
Bucky kisses all over Steve's jaw, latching onto the senior's collar bones and snapping forward. Peter lets out a fucking _keen_  at the action— but he doesn't stop. And then Bucky's fucking him, for real, gentle but quick thrusts into the boy, filling up the room with sinful smacks of skin and moans.

 

  
Steve can't stop himself from rolling his hips into Peter's mouth, dragging the boy's head a little back and forward to the same rhythm as Bucky. He's so lost in it that he barely notices Bucky's low voice whispering to Peter. 

 

  
"So good, baby, so fucking good, holy shit, you're doing so great, sweetheart, feel so good," the teen says. Steve can't stop himself from groaning at the way Peter preens under the praise, his tongue sliding and dipping in all the right places, sucking Steve down.

 

  
There was no way he was going to last.

 

  
With a few muttered warnings, his orgasm hits Steve hard. Bucky reaches forward to drag the other senior closer, making sure he comes in Peter's mouth. He shudders and moans with his climax, feeling tight and hot in his stomach, his hips stuttering against Peter's face. He realizes he's holding onto the boy's hair a little too tightly when he's coming down, and lets go to sit back, carefully pulling himself out of Peter's mouth.

 

  
The younger boy breathes heavily through his nose but keeps his mouth closed, and Steve watches with fascination as Bucky pulls himself out. The other senior is barely out of the small boy's hole before he's pulling Peter up and kissing him, and then— oh _holy shit_.

 

  
Steve's come slips out some from when Peter and Bucky's lips meet, the two of them sharing it, Bucky licking it all away from his boyfriend's face. Steve groans at it, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he watches them. 

 

  
A few seconds later and Bucky's sitting up, pulling Peter into his lap and pushing himself carefully back inside that little hole. 

 

  
Steve can't hold back a moan any more than Bucky or Peter can when the other sinks fully into his boyfriend once more. Only this time, Steve scoots forward, taking a gentle hold of Peter's length. The teen jerks at the action, which must send Bucky's cock pressing into his prostate because he jolts, whimpers and bites his lip hard. 

 

  
Steve can only grin a little and pant for breath, kissing Peter, taking his bitten lip between the senior's own teeth. 

 

  
One of Bucky's hands finds Steve's hair and runs through the coarse blonde, tightening as he snaps up into the heat of Peter. Steve kisses the smaller boy a little harder, his hand starting to slide up and down the younger teen's length. 

 

  
Peter whimpers and keens into Steve's mouth, Bucky whispering in his boyfriend's ear, and the hand in Steve's hair slowly makes its way down to the other senior's hips. 

 

  
Steve is very much aware that he's almost completely hard again— very aware. 

 

  
He becomes even more aware, though, when Bucky wraps a hand around him. 

 

  
Steve's grip tightens on Peter and he pushes his tongue into the boy's mouth, mimicking the way Bucky thrusts into him. It's... painfully erotic, Steve thinks.

 

The way he touches Peter, as Peter takes Bucky, as Bucky touches Steve.

 

  
He's leaking all over Bucky's hand while Peter leaks over his, and he can only imagine (remember) the incredibly tight heat Bucky must feel inside his boyfriend. 

 

  
Steve swipes a finger over Peter's tip and the boy's hips jerk, a feminine, almost wounded noise escaping him— and it sounds so good that Steve does it again. And again, and again, and over until Peter is writhing between them and the sounds have Steve all but pulsing in Bucky's grip, the smaller teen wiggling around on the other senior's cock. 

 

  
Bucky bites down suddenly on Peter's shoulder and moans lowly, and by the way he snaps forward, sending Peter lurching into Steve, his hand moving harshly on the other senior's length— Steve knows that he's coming. The senior tries to memorize the look of his best friend, as if he hasn't already, committing every detail to memory.

 

  
Something tells Steve to loosen his grip on Peter, even as Bucky's hand makes him all but growl out, and the smaller boy whimpers at the feeling as Bucky fills him up. 

 

  
Bucky slouches against Peter, then, licking and kissing the spot he bit in apology. He picks up the pace on Steve's length, which the other appreciates greatly, especially after watching Bucky's face and the tense of his body when he came. 

 

  
Steve kisses the corners of Peter's mouth and his cheeks, slowly stopping his stroking of the boy's cock, much to the younger's displeasure— instead occupying his hands with raking nails lightly over Bucky's back and feeling every ridge and divot of Peter's chest and belly. 

 

  
Bucky pulls out of Peter slowly and speeds up his hand, making Steve close his eyes and practically cling to the small teen between them as his best friend builds him up quickly. 

 

  
His second orgasm hits him almost out of nowhere and he groans, Bucky's mouth finding his and swallowing up the sounds as he spills over the other senior's hand and Peter's tummy. 

 

  
Peter moans softly as Steve slouches, the two older teens leaning against him. 

 

  
While Steve collects himself, Bucky pushes Peter down onto the bed, on his back. Steve looks and sees how his smaller cock is flushed and leaking, how Steve's come covers his belly and some of his length, and— fuck— how Bucky's come leaks out of him. 

 

  
They didn't even use a fucking condom, and, shit, _fuck_  that's hot, that's so fucking hot. 

 

  
Peter squirms in place and Steve leans over him, the sight of his messy hair and pink cheeks and gleaming eyes making Steve feel weak. He kisses Peter softly, glancing down between the boy's legs.

 

 

( _"He gets... overwhelmed. He needs help." "What kind of help?" "I think you know what I mean."_ )

 

  
Bucky kisses the smaller teen's tummy, licking at the creamy skin a little, before going down and covering the boy's cock with his mouth.

 

 

(" _He needs someone to help him through it, to make it happen. He can't do it on his own. He's too... you know. Sensitive._ ")

  
The younger cries out at that, but Steve gently keeps him down on the bed, despite the way his back arches and hips stutter. He looks so fucking beautiful, he looks _wrecked._  Bucky's no better, hair that escaped the bun matted to his skin, framing his face, and Steve imagines he himself can't look much different. 

 

  
He's mesmerized by the way the two move, savoring and swearing to remember every soft gasp and little moan that Bucky draws out of the smaller teenager; the way Bucky looks with Peter's pretty little dick in his mouth, hands on the younger's thighs, the way Peter arches up and blushes when Steve takes over for Bucky in praising the senior's boyfriend. 

 

  
Peter doesn't last much at all, having been so turned on, Bucky fucking him (for, shit, Steve doesn't know how long). 

 

  
His hips buck up choppily and he chokes out a moan, his back arching into a perfect bow as he digs his fingers into Steve's shoulder and Bucky's hair. The sound is intoxicating as Bucky draws it out of the younger boy, and Steve wills himself not to get hard again watching Peter come into his boyfriend's mouth.

 

  
Bucky pulls off slowly, but wastes no time in dragging Steve over by the arm and kissing him, slipping his tongue and some of Peter's come into his mouth. He swallows hard and kisses his best friend harder, and somehow they migrate to kissing over Peter's body, too.

 

  
Time slows down after that. 

 

  
The three of them move languidly with lazy presses of lips to skin, and Steve helps Bucky pull Peter's pliant body up, carrying the exhausted boy to the shower. 

 

  
They clean up gently and without a care for time, touching lightly and whispering sweet things to each other (to Peter). 

 

  
Steve is a little worried at first, that they (he) pushed the smaller teen too far, used him too much or too roughly, hurt him when they pulled back. But Peter, the angel, just smiles when Steve asks and kisses his cheek lightly, leaning against Bucky. The senior snakes an arm around Peter's waist, palm flat on the younger's chest, and kisses his temple, grinning at Steve. It's ok, they told him. Good, actually. 

 

  
Blushing and half glaring at Bucky, Peter murmurs that he's used to the teasing. 

 

  
When they get out of the shower, they all wear Bucky's clothing. Steve puts his own pants back on, but snatches one of his best friend's t-shirts. Peter puts on his own boxers, but wears one of Bucky's hoodies that swallows him up almost completely. The other senior tosses on his own clothes, and walks with Peter guiding him by the hand, his face occupied kissing Steve gently, down stairs and to the living room. 

 

  
Peter picks out a movie that Steve's never seen, but for the most part, he doesn't pay attention to it. 

 

  
He keeps his hands on Bucky's shoulder and Peter's thigh, the other senior's fingers in Steve and Peter's hair, the younger teen lounging across the older two. It's soft and warm and Steve can feel Peter breathe in where he's pressed up close, and Bucky occasionally murmurs a quip about the movie into Steve's ear, and Steve— 

 

  
God. There's something perfect about this, about _them_ , that he doesn't think he'll ever get tired of (or grow out of, for that matter).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!!


	12. Bucky's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Bucky’s birthday. Aside from quality time and sentimental material gifts, Peter has another present in store. 
> 
> rating: explicit (sexual content)  
> notes/warnings: oral sex, Bucky is now 18 and Peter is still like 16 or smth so there's that (but they're both still in high school)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! For anyone who missed it, this is the second chapter I posted tonight/today (depends where you are)! 
> 
> I would make a comment about me needing to go to church, but. It's Tuesday.

So far, Peter thinks it’s been great. 

Bucky’s been happy all day. His mom made him breakfast and lots of people had been wishing him happy birthday throughout the school day. Some kids even gave him cards or little presents, people Peter didn’t even know Bucky was friends with ( _“We’re not friends, really, but we’re cool,”_ the senior told him). 

Even kids Peter knew that Bucky almost certainly never met had been waving to him in the hallway and telling him to have a great birthday. 

It was honestly sweet and kind of a wake-up call, too. Peter realized just how many people knew his boyfriend, and just how much of the school absolutely loved him— the younger knew Bucky was popular and well-liked, but didn’t really know it to  _this_  degree until today. 

The Avengers surprised Bucky with cookies that they all helped make, Peter included, and put a paper birthday crown (where did they get that?) on the senior’s head the minute he walked into the building. None of the staff made him take it off. 

Every time Peter saw him, Bucky was smiling or laughing or looking content. Not that he was particularly broody any other day (ok, maybe he is a  _little_  bit of a moody teenager sometimes, but who isn’t?), but he seemed so much more up-beat all day. 

On their way out of school, Coach Fury gave him a glare of approval and said, “Happy birthday, Barnes. Don’t buy cigarettes or I’ll bench you.” 

Peter has yet to understand the differences between Fury’s facial expressions, considering he didn’t know there was a glare of disapproval and a glare of approval until Bucky told him. The senior had taken Fury’s threat with a wide grin and a boisterous “you got it, Coach!”, rushing away to catch up with his crowd of friends, leaving Peter to wonder how long the team had to work with the man before learning his lingo. 

After their last class let out, Peter kissed Bucky goodbye and let his boyfriend spend the afternoon with his friends. Every one of them had protested that Peter should come with, but the younger insisted that they should get to hang out, just them, and that he had some stuff he had to get ready anyways.

Bucky kissed his forehead, Thor ruffled his hair, and Tony and Sam actually made him say ‘I am not a bother’ out loud (which was both pleasing to know they cared so much, but also terribly embarrassing and he’d flushed pink when they requested he say it) before they all parted ways. 

The interaction left Peter feeling warm. Partly because Bucky’s friends are progressively becoming less of ‘his boyfriend’s friends who he is also friends with’ and more of ‘his friends’; and partly because they left for Thor’s van in a mess of too much energy, laughing and talking about dragging Bucky to the arcade. 

As for Peter— he’d gone home and spent the next few hours trying to calm the nervous butterflies and jittery excitement he felt. His homework was torture, considering all he could think about was the clothing folded on his dresser, but eventually it got to be late and he stuffed the clothes, along with his toothbrush and Bucky’s (other) presents, into his backpack.

Peter made his way to Bucky’s house around eight in the evening. Mrs. Barnes ( _“Please, Pete, you know you can call me Winni,” “Sorry Mrs.- Winni,”_ ) opened the door for him, telling him that they were just finishing up the dishes from dinner. 

After his outing with the Avengers, Bucky had gone home for a birthday supper with his mother, planning for Peter to spend the night afterwards. 

So now Peter’s here, trying to hide how obviously excited (and slightly nervous) he is, helping Mrs. Barnes and Bucky put dishes away. They get the last few plates rinsed and into the dishwasher and Peter drags his boyfriend into the living room so the younger can give him his present (or, well, the first one). 

 

  
Bucky’s mom watches with amusement as the smaller boy hands her son a box wrapped up in newspaper. It's not large, quite small actually, cardboard and covered in the cartoons and comics pages.

 

  
Bucky eyes it for a few seconds, giving Peter an soft grin. The younger shifts impatiently on the couch, earning an amused expression from Mrs. Barnes. The older teen removes the paper carefully, like he doesn't really want to rip it, and Peter watches almost impatiently.

 

  
Bucky insisted he didn't have to get him anything and Peter wanted to give him the entire Eiffel Tower, so they compromised— and Peter got him a framed picture of Bucky with all of his friends, right after winning a difficult game, when they were all jumping around together and smiling widely.

 

  
Peter's not very good with woodwork, but Wade helped him make the frame and put it all together (maybe Peter will leave out that detail).

 

  
Bucky pulls out the photo and looks at it with no reaction at all for about two seconds, before he breaks into a huge smile and tugs Peter under his arm.

 

  
"Thank you, Peter, I love it. Did you take this?" Bucky says, kissing Peter's temple. The younger smiles at the floor.

 

  
"Yeah," he admits. Bucky kisses his temple again. The phone rings loud and Peter almost jumps, making Bucky chuckle a little and Mrs. Barnes get up to answer it.

 

  
"You should be a professional photographer." Bucky murmurs into his boyfriend's hair. Peter smirks.

 

  
"Are you telling me I should charge you for this?" He prompts, turning up to face Bucky so his nose is against his boyfriend's chin.

 

  
"Hmm, maybe. What's your price?" The older says quietly. Peter looks at the senior with amusement.

 

  
"Mmm," he pretends to think, "A kiss."

 

  
Bucky laughs a little and tips Peter's head up, pecking him lightly on the lips for one second. When he pulls back, lets his lips drag against and up Peter's cheek, nose, and forehead, kissing the side of his head once more.

 

 

"For a photo that amazing? Baby, I'd give you a lot more than a kiss..." Bucky trails off, smiling against Peter's hair and rubbing his thumb on the boy's jawline.

 

  
Peter flushes a bit pink, but he leans into the touch and plants a quick kiss on Bucky's neck.

 

  
"Like what?" He asks quietly, letting his eyes hood a little and breathing slow. He's not sure how they seem to end up flirting so suggestively like this so often, but he can't seem to care. His boyfriend— just himself— is a turn on.

 

 

The feeling must be mutual, because Bucky wets his lips and takes kind of a shaky breath.

 

  
"Why don't I show you, huh?" He offers lowly. Peter grins at him but tilts his head, pushing himself up and kissing Bucky's nose.

 

  
"Today's your birthday, though. And I have some more... something else for you, too," he explains. Bucky narrows his eyes a little, but his smirk gives away his mischievous intrigue.  Bucky picks up the picture and stands without a word, leaving another kiss on Peter's forehead and popping into the kitchen, where he quietly says goodnight to his mom.

 

  
It's not that Bucky and Peter go to bed early (or super late), just that Mrs. Barnes' shifts are long and unpredictable, so as often as she can, she'll go to bed as early as possible.  Meaning after she's done with the phone call, she'll probably pass out in her bed on the ground floor while Peter and Bucky head upstairs.

 

  
The senior comes back into the living room in a moment and laces his fingers with Peter's, leading the younger by the hand to the second floor.  Peter peaks in through the archway to the kitchen and gives a little wave with a whispered 'goodnight' to Mrs. Barnes, who smiles and blows him and Bucky little kisses back.

 

  
And then Peter is following Bucky up to his room, backpack on one shoulder, about to jump right out of his own feet.

 

  
Once the older teen opens his door, he practically falls inside, tugging Peter in with him and using the momentum to make his boyfriend fall against him. Peter goes right with it, immediately snaking his arms around Bucky's middle as the senior wraps his arms around the smaller's shoulders.

 

  
Bucky takes in a deep breath at Peter's temple, kissing the corner of the boy's eyebrow and smiling against his cheek.

 

  
"You sure you don't want any kind of payment for that photo?" He purrs. Peter melts against him.

 

  
"You know what, now that you mention it," he begins, pulling away to push Bucky towards his bed. The older lets it happen until he's sitting on the corner of the mattress, Peter an arms length in front of him. "Wait here for a second." The younger grins. Bucky starts to roll his eyes but smiles anyways, subconsciously wetting his bottom lip.

 

  
Peter can't stop the huge smile breaking out on his face, so he turns around fast, backpack still on, and practically skips to the other side of the room. He closes the door and leans against it, hands still on the knob, biting his lip.

 

  
"Close your eyes," he says. Bucky raises an eyebrow, but smirks and does so.

 

  
"And cover them with your hands-!" Peter adds. His boyfriend obeys.

 

  
"Ok, no peeking, alright?" He tests. Bucky just nods, palms over his face and all.

 

  
"Alright, Petey." He says, sounding amused.

 

  
Peter grins again, then slides his backpack off his shoulder and opens it up. He shrugs out of his jeans and hoodie pretty quickly, catching Bucky shifting with his boyfriend quick to assure he 'isn't peaking, baby'.  The younger pauses anxiously at his boxers for a few seconds, but taking a deep breath, he slips them off.

 

  
And then he reaches into his bag, grabbing the clothes he brought with.

 

  
When he's dressed (or more like, "dressed"), he stuffs his other clothing into his bag and kicks it off to the side, then leans nervously against the door again, hands fidgeting behind him against the curve of his back.

 

  
"M'kay, you can open your eyes now." He says. His voice is quiet and a little shaky, a testimony to how nervous he is (combined with excitement).

 

  
Peter trusts Bucky more than almost anyone else— he's probably tied with Ned, or just short of Ned, and second or third only to Aunt May.

 

  
And he doesn't like to admit it, because it's a hard thing to believe, but Bucky usually makes it abundantly clear that he's pretty much always attracted to Peter, no matter what he looks like.

 

  
Bucky also mentioned something like this a few weeks ago.

 

  
So Peter feels safe enough to try it out, to see how his boyfriend reacts. Because he knows Bucky would never do anything to hurt or embarrass him (physically or emotionally).

 

  
That doesn't stop him from twiddling his fingers, biting his lip and blushing when Bucky removes his hands and opens his eyes.

 

  
His boyfriend is met with one hell of a sight.

 

  
Peter, leaning all svelte and sweet against the door, pretty flush on his cheeks and bottom lip caught somewhere between sexily and endearingly between his teeth. The corners of his mouth itch to smile but his slightly furrowed eyebrows betray his nerves.

 

  
He's wearing Bucky's button up, black and incredibly soft, which swamps the smaller teen, the collar of the open shirt almost completely fallen off both Peter's shoulders, covering only his arms and back. It goes half way down his thighs but is wide open, revealing smooth, milky skin and shorts.

 

  
If "shorts" even counts.

 

  
The bottoms are ridiculously short, barely covering his most upper thighs, the sides of his ass exposed, high-waisted fabric reaching his hips. The waist and legs of the garment have white seams, but the shorts themselves are the softest, prettiest shade of baby pink.

 

  
Peter looks like a whole goddamn _meal_  and _God_  does Bucky want to put his mouth on him.

 

  
The senior doesn't realize he hasn't done anything other than stare with his eyes wide and mouth open until Peter tilts his head (perfect, wild hair bouncing with the motion).

 

  
"Bucky?" He prompts quietly. His boyfriend isn't saying anything and he's getting more nervous by the second. This was a bad idea, wasn't it? He's totally weirded out and they don't ever have to talk about this again, just call it a learning experience, but on Bucky's _birthday_? Shit, why did Peter think that was a good idea?

 

  
"Um... what- what do you think?" He stutters. By now he's shifting where he stands.  Bucky's brain seems to reconnect with his body and he holds out a hand to his boyfriend.

 

  
Peter doesn't hesitate to hustle over to him, and the moment he's within Bucky's reach, the senior grabs him by the waist and tugs him almost harshly into his lap. The younger  squeaks a little at the sudden movement, but immediately leans back a little, ducking his head some.

 

  
"Pete, baby, look at me," Bucky says. Peter does so slowly, sitting up a bit straighter.  The minute they're more level, Bucky's grabbing Peter's face with both hands and dragging him into a deep kiss.

 

  
The senior's tongue slips into his mouth instantly, drawing a soft moan, a combination of relief and want, from the younger teen.  Peter winds his arms around Bucky's shoulders and slants his head to kiss his boyfriend better, the older's grip on his hips tightening.  Bucky finally breaks the kiss when they both need air too bad. He leans back, eyes raking over Peter's body again.

 

  
"Fuck, Pete," he begins breathlessly, "I mean, seriously, holy fuck. You're so hot, baby, you're so hot, you tryin' to kill me or something?"

 

  
Peter giggles at him and his tongue darts out over his already wet lips.

 

  
"Happy birthday," he grins cheekily. Bucky kisses him again, nipping his bottom lip and sliding one hand up Peter's side.  The younger lets the hand explore his torso for a few seconds, kissing Bucky almost lazily, before he slowly pulls himself back. He scoots off Bucky's legs, much to the older's confusion, only for everything to become clear when he drops to his knees.

 

  
Bucky groans like it physically pains him and helps spread his legs, Peter's hands on the insides of his thighs.  The smaller works quickly with semi-shaky fingers at his boyfriend's pants, Bucky shimmying out of them and his boxers quickly.

 

  
Peter's greeted with a hard length in front of him, flushed red and dribbling a little. He blushes because he can't stop it, then looks up at Bucky with wide doe eyes and doesn't break eye contact as he gives a tentative little lick to the tip.

 

  
Bucky curses under his breath and his hands find Peter's hair, threading through soft locks and taking a loose grip.

 

  
At the feeling of hands in his hair, Peter looks down to the dick in front of him. He licks the head again, flattening his tongue and lapping at it a few times before taking it slowly into his mouth.  Just the tip feels heavy and hot on his tongue, but he takes more, bobbing his head and moving further down each time.

 

  
He gets halfway down Bucky's length when his boyfriend's hips jerk up of their own accord, cock hitting the back of Peter's throat.  The younger coughs and chokes a little, but doesn't pull all the way off.

 

  
"Shit, sorry babe-" Bucky begins, but cuts himself off with a long moan when Peter dives back in.

 

  
There's an obscene sound in the otherwise quiet of Bucky's bedroom as Peter works at it. He tries to keep his lips tight and his tongue flat against the underside of Bucky's cock, but he knows there's saliva and precome escaping his mouth.

 

  
When he looks up, he sees the older teen's head thrown back as far as it can be with his eyes still trained on Peter. The second they make eye contact though, the grip on the smaller's hair tightens and Bucky groans loudly, his eyes closing tight.

 

  
"Jesus Christ, Peter," the senior moans. "You're so-" he all but keens as Peter sucks on the tip before moving down again, "so f-fucking cute, even with my dick in your mouth," he makes a choking sound as Peter traces the bulging veins with his tongue, "especially- fuck- especially cute with my dick in your mouth. God, if you could see yourself, baby, you're fucking perfect," Bucky sighs.

 

  
Peter preens under the praise and compliments, moaning contently, evidently sending vibrations through the older teen's cock.  Bucky moans lowly and starts to slowly, carefully, roll his hips into Peter's mouth. At first the younger tries to keep up, taking him further and pulling back with Bucky's rhythm, but after a while he just lets his boyfriend's grip on his hair guide him.

 

  
He lets Bucky fuck his face, if gently and easily, while he does his best to suck and run his tongue over the ridges and smooth length.

 

  
When Peter chokes a little bit, making a high pitched whimper, Bucky curses loudly and bucks forward again. He accidentally tugs Peter all the way down until the younger's nose is buried in the curls at the base of Bucky's cock— something that's rarely happened as Peter still can't take his boyfriend's entire length. The smaller teen  coughs and sputters and Bucky lets him off immediately, letting go of his hair and backing off.

 

  
Peter coughs and heaves to catch his breath, but Bucky, almost as flushed pink as Peter is, barely starts his apology before the younger is licking his lips and saying, "Do it again, ok?"

 

  
Bucky freezes up and for a second Peter thinks he's said the wrong thing— but then his boyfriend is looking very _barely_  composed and trying to organize his words.

 

 

  
"You, you sure? You sure about that, baby?" Bucky asks nervously. Peter nods enthusiastically, because this is a present to Bucky and he wants it to be as good as possible, and he trusts his boyfriend. Even if the concept of taking that much is kind of scary, he knows Bucky won't hurt him.

 

  
(And, maybe, possibly, the concept of choking on his boyfriend's dick isn't exactly a turn _off_ ).

 

  
Bucky stares at him a few seconds longer before telling him to tap on him if it's too much, to which Peter nods again.  And then he's putting his mouth around Bucky's length again, and going down as far as he can, and his boyfriend's hands are lacing through his hair once more.

 

  
This time, Bucky's a little more forceful.

 

  
He pulls Peter's head forward to meet the thrust of his hips, hitting the back of the younger boy's throat each time and pulling off just enough for him to cough in a new breath before tugging him down again.

 

  
Peter's on a cycle of choking and gasping for breath, barely able to keep the saliva and precome from leaking out of his mouth.

 

  
There's a steady flow of tears that feel like they're being forced out of Peter's wide eyes with every thrust of Bucky's hips. His cheeks are burning pink almost as much as his lungs protest and his lips are bright red from sliding over Bucky's cock. He's squeezing his boyfriend's thighs but he doesn't tap out.

 

  
It's some kind of erotic to Peter, letting Bucky use his mouth like this. Some kind of relief, too, that what's supposed to be a really great present isn't even Peter's responsibility anymore; he doesn't have to do anything or mess anything up, just let Bucky move the way he knows feels best, Peter along for the ride.

 

  
It's cathartic somehow and also _really_  hot, and Peter is painfully hard in his shorts.

 

  
Using his boyfriend's mouth the way he does, Bucky doesn't last very long. He gets close quick, and after stuttering warnings, climaxes into Peter's mouth. Or, more accurately, down Peter's throat.

 

  
The bow swallows as best he can and only coughs a little, finally pulling away from Bucky's cock.  He can feel the string of saliva and come snap when he moves far enough away, and moves to wipe his mouth and chin when his boyfriend catches him under the arms.

 

  
It's like Peter weighs nothing as Bucky hikes him up, pulling him fast back into his lap and licking up the mess on the younger's chin.

 

  
Peter closes his eyes and sighs as Bucky's tongue cleans his face and mouth of excess saliva and escaped release, before slipping back past his lips so they can kiss dirtily.  Peter moans and doesn't really realize that he's grinding forward until Bucky's hand moves to cup his hard length. He gasps loudly into the kiss and his boyfriend pulls away, grinning as he begins to rub.

 

  
He grinds his palm in delicious friction over Peter's cock, leaking so much there's a damp spot on the pink shorts. The younger whimpers and lets out needy moans, rolling his hips to meet Bucky's hand.  He clings to his boyfriend's shoulders and shakes in the older boy's lap as the senior starts to whisper to him.

 

  
"That's it, baby, there you go. So fucking perfect, always perfect for me. Did so good, felt so good for me, angel, so fucking cute like this, always so fucking cute," Bucky says, his voice deep, mouthing at Peter's jaw and shoulder where he's exposed by the over-sized shirt.

 

  
Peter was so hard it hurt, so with Bucky's words and the shameless way he rubs against his boyfriend's hand, he gets close fast.

 

  
In no time at all, Peter's hips are stuttering and he whimpers out something like warnings, biting his lip hard and squeezing Bucky's shoulders before he comes.

 

  
He stains the insides of the shorts, for sure, a little bit of white seeping out from one of the seams, dribbling down Peter's milky thigh. Bucky holds him while he shakes and rides out his climax, making a large dark spot on soft pink fabric.

 

  
They sit there for a few seconds, breathing, before Bucky's rolling them onto the bed. He slips between Peter's legs and licks the escaped trail of come off the younger's thigh, then licks and kisses up over the dark stains on the shorts, continuing to kiss up Peter's tummy and chest.

 

  
Something about teenage refractory period and horny young boys goes through the back of Peter's mind, but he doesn't care.

 

  
He pulls Bucky into a kiss as soon as the older is close enough, the senior nipping at Peter's tongue as he helps the smaller boy work out of the pink shorts.

 

  
They leave the button up on, but Bucky shuffles out of his top and grinds down on Peter, sucking on his jaw. Peter sighs and runs his hands over Bucky's defined shoulders and back, clutching at strong arms.

 

  
"Happy birthday again," Peter whispers distractedly as his boyfriend's fingers venture between his legs. Bucky  laughs breathlessly, scraping his teeth gently over Peter's cheekbone.

 

  
"Should've put cake frosting on you," the older boy jokes, and Peter giggles, grabbing Bucky's face with both hands to pull him into a kiss, just as one of the senior's wet fingers finds the smaller boy's little pink hole.

 

  
"Next time," Peter promises. Bucky smirks, definitely going to make another quip, so Peter kisses it out of him.

 

  
Bucky doesn't mind.

 

  
It's a pretty fucking great birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks lots and hope you liked it!! Once more, there's another chapter before this one that I also just posted, in case you missed that and want to read it!


	13. Bucky Is Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky gets sick. Peter gets a haircut. The fluff gets a little flirty but it's mostly sweet.
> 
> rating: mature  
> notes/warnings: a lil bit of a hair-pulling kink, mayhaps?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Olan Rogers voice* it's been a while. It's been a while. 
> 
> Sorry for disappearing for over two months. Pls accept this mini sick fic as an apology <3

At least he can breathe.

Well, ok, that's not quite right. The cough he has might seriously kill him, but at least he isn't congested.

So long as the breaths are slow and careful and not too deep, he can breathe without coughing up a lung. Usually.

 

He can eat and drink just fine (when he's not coughing) and he aches a little but sleeping takes care of that.

 

The migraines, though— there's no plus side, no positive twist he can take on those. His head hurts like  _ hell _ , pounding behind his eyes and the only thing that makes it better is being unconscious.

 

That, and Peter's fingers running through his hair, massaging his neck and shoulders and scalp so gently it's heaven.

 

Bucky's been home sick for an entire day already, his mom bringing him soups and saltine crackers and fruit juice whenever she gets the opportunity. For the most part, he only gets up to get more water or go to the bathroom.

 

Peter came over after school yesterday and he's coming over again today, despite Bucky's protests about getting the younger teen sick, too.

 

_ ("Nuh-uh, I'm not going anywhere. You're always taking care of me, baby, let me take care of you this time, ok?") _

 

It's endearing as much as it exasperates Bucky, but he loves it. Peter pets his hair and does his best to massage Bucky's aching limbs, shoving medication in his face and cuddling him. He even kisses Bucky's cheeks and forehead, regardless of how the senior grumbles about contagiousness.

 

It's sweet. Just a little bit annoying, but mostly sweet and Bucky loves it despite his griping.

 

He wakes up some time in the afternoon to hands caressing his cheek and soft kisses on his nose.

 

"Hey, Bucky," Peter's soft voice says. Bucky sighs and coughs at the end of it, sitting up and smiling despite the physical discomfort. Peter's wearing the giant sweater Bucky bought him— safety pins holding in folds on the slight turtleneck collar and baggy sleeve cuffs to make it slightly more form fitting. Really, all it does is emphasize how small the boy is, how much the sweater swamps him. It's adorable and kind of hot and his pretty, chocolate brown eyes look down at Bucky fondly, making the older teen's heart beat a little faster. 

 

“Hey, sweetheart.” The senior murmurs, turning into the warmth of the younger boy and sliding one of his hands under the sweater, palm flat against a hot belly. Peter just hums, fingers like opiods to Bucky’s headache. 

 

“Wanna take a shower? Gotta clean the germs off you,” the smaller suggests. Bucky practically purrs at the thought of hot water running down his body, pressed up close to his boyfriend.

 

“Mmm, yeah,” he sighs. He kisses Peter’s stomach through the sweater and the boy moves away to kiss Bucky’s forehead, smiling against the burning skin and fishing the older’s hands out from the covers. 

 

Bucky lets Peter help him up and guide him across the hallway to the bathroom. He leans against the wall and just stares, watching appreciatively,  _ admiring _ Peter as he works on getting the best water temperature. 

 

After Peter strips he helps the senior out of his clothes, a long sleeve and sports shorts probably saturated with whatever virus has given him the cold. Bucky kisses Peter’s shoulder as they step into the shower and Peter kisses his chest as the water starts to rain down on them.

 

It feels ridiculously fucking good and also makes Bucky cringe a little at how gross he must have been. Peter doesn't seem to mind at all, though. He washes Bucky’s hair for him and is more gentle with the loofah while he scrubs the senior’s back than Bucky himself has probably ever been. 

 

When they both smell like Bucky’s conditioner and body wash, Peter steps out (after asking if Bucky will be fine). 

 

He’s never too tired or sick to be sarcastic, so he replies with a smirk and, “I don’t know, Pete, if you leave me here I might slip and break my face.” 

 

“Oh no, not your face! It's your best quality!” Peter doesn't miss a beat. 

 

“Is it?”

 

“Well.. I mean.. second only to.. you know,” Peter smirks, wiggling his eyebrows and it should be snarky or sexy but it's just cute, and Bucky laughs (which only hurts a little), but he doesn't cough again, and hums against Peter’s temple before the boy finally exits the shower.

 

Bucky washes his face in the shower and takes his time getting out, pausing to brush his teeth, too, before he leaves the bathroom. When he gets back to his room, Peter’s there, redressed, finishing straightening fresh sheets and blankets. 

 

The old, probably soiled sickly bedding is piled in the corner and Peter kisses Bucky’s cheek when he’s done, handing the senior some folded clothing and disappearing down the hall with the lumped up sheets. 

 

Bucky doesn't even hesitate. He moves slowly, because he can't  _ not _ , but it's all one fluid motion of him discarding his towel, pulling on the joggers (disregarding the hoodie), and sinking into his mattress. 

 

It smells good and fresh, and clean, and he feels clean even as he sniffles a little. 

 

He must pass out for a few minutes, because it feels like he’s waking up when Peter sits on the bed with him again. 

 

This time, the boy has a bowl of soup with him. Bucky sits up and eats (drinks, really) the broth slowly, listening to Peter talk quietly about classes that day and the entire plot of a documentary MJ watched with him. 

 

Bucky finishes off the soup and a bottle of water that Peter offers before he lays back down on his stomach. Peter helps fix the blankets on top of him, the younger teen still sitting against the head of the bed, and Bucky shifts until he can wrap his arms loosely around his boyfriend’s waist, face buried in Peter’s sweater again (which— fair, is probably significantly less gross than Bucky’s old clothes were). 

 

The smaller wastes no time in slipping one hand under the blanket, rubbing the senior’s shoulders softly, running fingers through Bucky’s wet hair with his other. 

 

At some point very soon after, Bucky passes out, enveloped in warmth and the smell of Peter smelling like him. 

 

Peter is there again the next time Bucky wakes up, but it's definitely been a long time. There aren't any streaks or glowing hazes of sunlight sneaking through his curtains so it must be nighttime. 

 

The younger teen has toast and rice on a plate and he’s grinning softly, crouching beside the bed so his face is level with Bucky’s on the pillow.

 

“You should eat some more solid food,” the smaller whispers. His boyfriend hums in agreement, stomach feeling a little empty. 

 

“Your mom is bringing home sandwiches later, but that won't be for a few more hours, so I thought I’d make you a snack.” Peter explains. Bucky grins and pushes himself up. It's definitely been long enough for him to take some of the heavy-duty meds again, and instead of rested, he’s feeling even more tired than before. 

 

“Thanks, baby. You're an angel, my angel,” he mumbles. Peter blushes a little and kisses Bucky’s hand before setting a fork in his palm. 

 

The rice is good, seasoned with salt and rosemary, and it's satisfying to get to crunch on the crispy (but not  _ burnt _ , and that's important) toast. Bucky downs the meds and more water, lounging back again.

 

Peter has his laptop with him this time around, happy to pull up The Office and pick the episode they left off on, sliding into bed with the older teen. 

 

Bucky slips in and out throughout the show, waking during what's almost definitely a different episode entirely, feeling the full effects of his medication and exhaustion. That’s to say, he’s more than a little loopy and freed of headaches and fragile lungs, for the moment. 

 

He’s in the midst of absently petting through Peter’s hair when he realizes it feels a little shorter on the sides and back. The Parker-defining mess of curls and bouncy chestnut is still sitting proudly, carelessly on the top of his head, but it's definitely been trimmed a little. 

 

“Did you get a haircut?” He asks, voice low and quiet and a little rough from all the coughing and sore throat. 

 

“Yeah, little bit. Was getting in my ears and stuff,” Peter whispers back. Bucky nods slightly, going back to petting. He doesn't have much control over his hands, apparently, because when he tries to examine a tuft more closely, he pulls on it.

 

Not terribly sharply or harshly, but it's definitely a firm tug, and Peter lets out a miserable sounding, high pitched moan, and Bucky releases his hair. 

 

“Shit- sorry Pete, I-” he starts to apologize and  _ ouch _ , panic of possibly harming his boyfriend does  _ awful _ things to his previously tamed headache. 

 

“Nope, it's ok, all good, it's fine, it's totally fine, you're fine I'm good,” Peter rushes out, face gone beat red. 

 

Bucky just sighs in relief, nodding in understanding and relaxes again, his boyfriend burrowing his face and upper body into Bucky’s bare chest, and goes back to petting Peter’s hair. 

 

He barely registers the specific something against his thigh, but once he does realize that it's Peter’s hard on, he doesn't mention it. Happens to the best of us, he thinks, especially when cuddling with one’s exceptionally sexy, shirtless boyfriend. 

 

He smirks to himself, though, just at his own thoughts and thinking that if he said that aloud, Peter would easily sass him. 

 

The smaller teenager isn't there the next time Bucky wakes up, at what must be way early in the morning. 

 

His mom is touching his cheek and telling him he has a sandwich in the fridge and to call her if he needs anything. She kisses his forehead and he whispers a goodbye to her, curling back into his pillow. 

 

It's probably only a few hours later when Peter does return. 

 

“It's Saturday?” Bucky asks. Peter nods. 

 

Huh. He could have sworn it'd be Friday, today. How much has he been sleeping?

 

For some reason he finds it a little funny. 

 

They eat together on Bucky’s bedroom floor, socks and sweatpants and shirtless, sharing a blanket. The senior has his sandwich and his boyfriend munches on chex mix and red grapes. Eventually they migrate to the couch downstairs, and Bucky lays with his head in Peter’s lap while the smaller reads him Harry Potter and for the millionth time cards his fingers through the older's hair. 

 

It’s nice and quiet and Peter keeps Bucky hydrated and medicated, so much that by Sunday evening, the senior is telling his mom he’s good to go back to school. 

 

Sam gives him shit about being sick for so many days and missing so much time hanging out, but, unsurprisingly, Thor gives him a side hug so fierce it's almost a choke hold and Bucky has to tap out with an “ok, yeah, ok, I missed you too buddy, it's been like a week lemme breathe”. 

 

He doesn't hang out with his boyfriend again until Tuesday, but when he does, they're at Peter’s house. May isn't home and they barely go half an hour before they're on the younger's bed and Bucky has a lap-full of his boyfriend. 

 

They're kissing and the senior has his hands under the smaller’s shirt, raking up and down his back, grabbing handfuls of the boy's ass and nipping at his jaw. 

 

Peter’s moaning against his mouth when Bucky pulls away, curious, recalling the moment from Friday night. 

 

“By the way,” he says, breathless, licking the younger’s bottom lip, “do you have a hair thing now?” 

 

He keeps his tone the furthest thing from accusatory but can't help some of the amusement that bleeds in. Peter kind of freezes a little bit and squirms, pulling away, shaking his head. Bucky just raised his eyebrow, corner of his mouth itching to grin devilishly. 

 

Poor boy is a terrible liar. And definitely has a hair thing. 

 

Peter blushes and it's so cute that the senior has to bite his lip to stop from jumping the kid that very second. 

 

“... um… maybe?” A pause, and Peter steals a glance to see that Bucky is still waiting for an elaboration. “I-I don't know, I don't know ok it just didn't feel.. bad…” 

 

Bucky just laughs and kisses him, wiping the nervousness off his boyfriend’s face, the younger melting right back into him in that blissful haze of comfort and trust that gets them both so goddamn dumb and high. 

 

“We’ll have to look into that,” he murmurs, one of his hands leaving Peter’s back to creep up his neck and take a fistful of hair at the crown of the younger’s head, where the curls are still long and unruly. 

 

Peter blushes bright pink and whimpers a little, and Bucky smiles and kisses him deeply again, tongue slipping into the younger’s mouth, making out increasingly messily as Peter continues to moan and mewl, his little hips twitching on Bucky’s lap.

 

The senior pushes him back and down, crawling on top of him without even opening his eyes, breaking the kiss, or releasing his boyfriend’s hair. 

  
Peter gasps for breath and his entire waist seems to grind up against Bucky out of pure instinct when the older tugs a little more on the soft locks in his grip, and  _ oh _ , yeah, they will definitely be “looking into” this more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know where the hair pulling kink came from but I guess it's here now.


	14. Cream Colored, Soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter tries something new and Bucky has strong feelings about it.
> 
> rating: explicit (sexual content)  
> notes/warnings: lingerie, these fools are so fucking whipped for each other, love kink???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got... a lot softer than I intended. Can’t remember if I already have Peter occasionally calling Bucky by variations of his real first name James in this fic, but if not then I’m starting now, bc I Like That
> 
> Also, this is a longer chapter
> 
> (is being in love a kink? if being in love can be a kink, then that's what they have)

It’s not a bad photo. 

 

The model is pretty, and she’s not wearing a top but she has her arms wrapped around her chest, and she’s laughing (or, pretending to laugh for the cameraperson, but it’s still an award winning smile), and the underwear she’s advertising are nice. A sort of pastel, pinkish orange color, with cream colored lace trim, and they hug her figure nicely. 

 

Bucky’s more interested in the boy looking at the photo, though. Specifically the  _ way _ that said boy is looking at said picture. 

 

“Find something interesting?” Bucky asks playfully. Peter goes beat red and tucks his phone, the ad on his explore feed still open, against his chest. 

 

“Nope!” He exclaims. He pointedly doesn’t look at Bucky and shrinks on himself a little in the older teen’s embrace, making himself even smaller where they’re huddled side by side on Bucky’s couch. 

 

“Uh-huh. What would you look like in lingerie, I wonder?” The older contemplates aloud, a faux deep-thinking expression on his face. Peter’s cheeks seem to grow pinker and he shakes his head. 

 

“Ridiculous, probably.”

 

“Mm, I was thinking hot as fuck, actually.”

 

There’s a pause and an explosion from the Bond movie they’re watching. Peter peaks up at Bucky from under his pretty eyelashes. 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Really, Pete. You’d look hot in one of those sausage commercial guys’ biscuit costumes, even. I bet you’d be so sexy in underwear like that, I’d have to sign a waiver just to see you.” Bucky laughs, but he’s serious. He’s definitely had a dream or two with his boyfriend in a pair of skimpy panties before and he’s sure his imagination can do no justice. 

 

Peter just blushes, but he looks pleased, and then a bit cunning (the little shit), smirking slightly at Bucky. 

 

“Are you sure you’re not just horny right now?” 

 

Bucky guffaws and looks down at his boyfriend with a grin that’s supposed to be suggestive but he’s too amused for it to come off as anything but genuine joy. “Baby, in the least perverted way possible, I’m always horny around you. Constantly. I’m always thinking about sex, at least a little bit, when I’m with you. You as a person turn me on  _ so much _ .” 

 

Peter bursts out laughing and pushes at Bucky’s chest playfully, but the older teen digs under the blankets to find the smaller’s waist and pull him over so Peter straddles him. 

 

007 is in the middle of seducing someone as Bucky drags Peter’s face close and kisses him messily in between the boy’s giggles. 

 

The senior mostly forgets about the lingerie after that. (Not including the way his subconscious decides to run wild in his dreams, of course.) Up until he's over at the younger’s apartment a few weeks later, sitting on the edge of Peter’s bed. 

 

He already took his shirt off and he’s still hard in his shorts, but Peter broke away from grinding against him to run to the bathroom with little explanation other than, “I’ll be right back!” 

 

He’s answering a text from Sam when Peter’s bedroom door opens and closes again, not yet looking up from his phone until the message is sent. 

 

Which happens the coincide with the moment Peter comes to stand directly in front of him. 

 

The first thing Bucky notices are bare legs, soft and creamy and toned and  _ exposed _ . Peter was still wearing pants when he ran to the bathroom. 

 

Bucky slowly drags his gaze up the smaller teenager’s frame, up his pretty thighs to the older’s natural eye level, which happens to align with his boyfriend’s middle. Peter has one of Bucky’s dark grey t-shirts on, but he’s pulled it taut and twisted the bottom hem and tucked it under the rest so it’s fitted at his waist. So it reveals what he doesn’t have, or rather, what he  _ does _ have on. 

 

It’s the fucking lingerie.

 

The lingerie from the fucking ad. Bucky remembers it, he remembers the light color, the lace, how it had fit the model and  _ shit _ it looks so much better on Peter.

 

God, the way it hugs his skin, defining his perfect ass and how the fabric is thick enough to not be entirely obscene but leaves so very little to the imagination about Peter’s dick, hard with a little damp spot, tucked and hidden under the underwear, the tip just barely visible through the mesh of the lace trim. 

 

It’s a hell of a sight— it’s a fucking  _ vision _ .  _ Peter  _ is a  _ vision _ . 

 

A short, sharp inhale from above breaks Bucky out of his trance, and he forces his stare to crawl up the younger boy’s svelte torso, where those bright chocolate doe eyes are looking down at him nervously. 

 

Bucky doesn’t realize his jaw is gaping slightly until he has to close it, wetting his lips and swallowing to clear his throat from how much his mouth is watering. 

 

“What... um, what do you think?” Peter prompts. He's blushing and the flush deepens as he speaks, averting his gaze. The older teen can see how his boyfriend subtly shifts his weight from side to side, a nervous habit, and Bucky slowly runs his hands up the backs of the boy’s legs, gripping his thighs just under his ass to steady him. 

 

“I was right.” The senior says quietly. He regains eye contact with Peter at that and holds it as he kisses the boy’s tummy through the t-shirt. “I should’ve signed a waiver.  _ Fuck _ , Pete. I- I can’t even, god, if- if this kills me, you cannot be arrested, ok. This- that is on me, you caught  _ me _ slipping, alright?” 

 

Peter laughs and bites his lip, that beautiful fucking smile breaking out onto his face. 

 

“Please don’t make twitter jokes right now,” he giggles. Bucky just breathes in awe, looking up and down the boy’s body again and again.

 

He’s so fucking sexy, and the fact that Peter “Nervous Wreck” Parker trusts him enough to just  _ do _ this, with no warning, how much Peter cares about him and trusts him, god,  _ that’s _ just about as beautiful as the physical sight of the boy, pressing his thighs tightly and squirming so slightly where Bucky holds him, the little wet spot on the lingerie growing steadily darker and wider. 

 

“I’m serious, Pete, this- you’re so fucking sexy it should be illegal. You’re perfect,” he kisses the boy’s stomach again, “You’re a perfect fucking angel, baby. My angel.”

 

He slowly rubs his hands up and down the sides and backs of Peter’s thighs, pressing his forehead into the younger boy’s middle and just gazing down, appreciating the sight of Peter’s waist draped in cream colored, soft fabric. It’s a good look on him. Goes with his complexion and his hair and his eyes.

 

Panties are definitely a complement to how soft and sweet Peter is.

 

The senior’s hands meet behind Peter’s legs and slide up his cotton-covered ass, taking his time to feel the plumpness under his palms before continuing up, pushing his hands under the t-shirt. 

 

He feels the smooth,  _ hot _ skin of Peter’s torso, putting a little pressure in the small of the younger’s back, making him lean forwards into Bucky, the older teen not missing the way the damp patch grows darker at the force. 

 

Bucky brings his hands to grip Peter’s waist, thumbs pressing gently into the dips of Peter’s hip bones. He kisses Peter’s belly over the shirt again, and the boy finally melts, relaxing entirely into the hot hands around his body. 

 

"Mmm, love you.." He murmurs. 

 

"I love you too, baby."

 

The younger teen braces his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders, humming quietly and resting against the edge of the bed and Bucky’s embrace. The senior just kisses the same spot again, breathing in the scent of his laundry and Peter’s body wash mixed together. 

 

Slowly, the smaller teen reaches down, grabbing his (Bucky’s, technically) shirt and pulling it off his torso. And they just said "I love you" to each other but such a beautiful wordless display of skin and heat and  _ trust _ will never stop making Bucky’s head spin and breath hitch, the expanse of his boyfriend’s pretty body and the silent confidence, the implied  _ “I know you’ll take care of me” _ that gets Bucky hard like nothing else. 

 

Is Bucky’s kink love? He thinks he has a fetish for being in love.

 

With the t-shirt gone, Bucky lays his hands back on Peter’s hips and Peter holds Bucky’s shoulders, palms sliding up to cup the senior’s neck and face. 

 

Bucky kisses Peter’s bare tummy and the younger shudders, breath stuttering and he gulps audibly. The reaction just makes the older grin, lips still planted against the delicate, supple skin of his boyfriend’s stomach. 

 

“Always so responsive for me,” he muses. He plants an open mouth kiss, tongue gently, slowly licking the spot, and Peter sighs in content. 

 

“Only for you,” he whispers. Bucky grins wider and pecks the place once more before pulling his face back. 

 

He stands slowly, not releasing his hold on the boy’s waist as he does. When Bucky reaches his full height he leans down, kissing Peter lightly on the lips and turning them around, so the backs of Peter’s knees catch on the edge of the bed and he tips back. 

 

Bucky braces their descent with one arm and keeps the other locked around his boyfriend, guiding the smaller up as they lay on the mattress together. 

 

Peter crawls to the middle of the bed, staying on his back, and Bucky watches him appreciatively (noting the appreciative way Peter’s eyes drag over his own body). Every time he gets Peter like this, it hits him like it’s brand new, but it feels like they’ve done it forever. 

 

It’s familiar and  _ right _ but regardless of when or where or how they’re together, there’s always a thrill. 

 

Bucky feels it when Peter looks up at him, biting the corner of his bottom lip and spreading his legs. He feels the  _ rush _ when his boy makes room for him between pretty thighs, the fucking  _ panties _ greeting him when he settles into the space. 

 

Bucky kisses him. Draws Peter’s bottom lip from the grip of his teeth and licks it, licks into the younger teen’s mouth, explores what he already has memorized. 

 

The boy tastes like popcorn and chocolate and Bucky probably tastes the same and that sweet, salty love fits them, doesn’t it? 

 

Peter buries his fingers in Bucky’s dark brown hair and rakes the digits through, gripping the back of the senior’s neck and holding him close. The kiss gets messier and less coordinated the more excited and into it they get. 

 

When Peter whimpers at the way Bucky nips the boy’s tongue, the older pulls away, pecking his boyfriend’s cheek and kissing a trail down to the panties. 

 

“Turn over, baby.” 

 

His perfect boy does so without a second thought, flipping into his stomach and looking over his shoulder. Bucky just kisses the small of his back again, then hooks his thumb over the hem of the lingerie, tugging the underwear to the side just enough to expose Peter’s hole.

 

The younger moans softly, a breathless _ “fuck” _ slipping out when he realizes that Bucky’s not going to take the panties off to prep him. 

 

Bucky doesn’t grab the lube, though. Instead, he kisses the satin uncovered cheek, and then licks a short, wide strip over the boy’s precious entrance.

 

He keeps his tongue flat and the licks small and short, teasing but reverently slow as he eases Peter into the delirium of want. The boy tastes just a little like something soapy and, _ little shit _ , he only cleans himself like that without telling Bucky first when he's sure he’s going to do something that makes the senior want to taste him. 

 

The older nips the one entirely exposed cheek lightly as a little payback, but really, he’s a goddamn liar if he says he doesn’t love it. He loves the way Peter, sweet, shy little Peter, is confident and coy and cheeky with him. He loves the way they boy comes out of his carefully composed emotional armor for Bucky,  _ shit _ , he loves Peter so much.

 

Hopefully the way he eats him out like a starving man at a full course meal helps communicate that even more. 

 

Bucky laps at the small entrance, kissing, sucking a little, pushing his tongue in bit by bit as Peter squirms and melts beneath him. The boy’s soft, breathy moans turn him on like crazy, but he keeps it slow, lathering as much saliva as he can into his boyfriend’s hole and working the rim with his tongue and lips until Peter is a puddle on the sheets. 

 

Even after the younger goes pliant and lax, Bucky keeps up the slow, gentle mouthing. He slips one finger in when Peter finally starts to babble a bit, but much to the smaller’s dismay, he has to pull away and grab actual lube before he can go any further. 

 

Peter whines when the hot tongue leaves him but Bucky hushes him and kisses his shoulder to compensate. He warms the lube on his fingers for a moment, then slowly adds two back inside, still holding the panties out of the way.

 

The fabric is soft against his cheek when he leans back down, once again adding his tongue to the mess, and god _damn_ it’s a good color on Peter’s creamy ass. 

 

Once Peter takes three of Bucky’s fingers easily, the senior removes the digits. Slowly, petting his boyfriend’s back and thighs, the older teen uses his clean hand to carefully drag the panties down Peter’s legs. The boy helps him a little in ridding them completely, and then Bucky shucks his shorts and briefs away as fast as he can— because Peter’s just laying there, naked and worked open and squirming again, breathless, virtually incoherent attempts at pleas and, yeah, Bucky needs to be inside him like _ right now _ . 

 

He moves between Peter’s legs again, pulling him up by the hips slightly, his own knees pushing the younger’s thighs out and the senior can only imagine how obscene it might look to someone who doesn’t have lust-and-love-blind tunnel vision. 

 

“You ready, Pete?” 

 

The boy nods, face in the mattress, gripping the sheets. “Yeah, babe, I-I’m ready, please-” 

 

Bucky doesn’t make him wait. He slides in carefully, slowly, inch by inch, taking his time. Even when he stretches Peter so well, the teenager is still so goddamn tight, feeling heavenly around Bucky’s cock. 

 

Once he’s all the way in, moaning at the feeling while Peter sighs like finally being full is soothing to him— Bucky leans down. He wraps an arm around Peter’s chest and braces himself with the other, bringing them close but keeping both of their joined hips up, the senior slotting perfectly into the pretty bow of Peter’s back. 

 

He goes slow. Takes a full seven or eight seconds to pull out and another seven or eight to push back in. Each thrust is a lengthy process, gentle, and Peter groans high and broken and a little desperate into the arms he’s now folded under his forehead. 

 

“Bucky- J-Jay p-plea-” 

 

“Shh, shh, I got you, baby, let's take it slow, alright?” 

 

“Th-this is- you’re-  _ this  _ slow-?” It’s almost indignant and unbelieving, and it makes Bucky huff out a breathless laugh. 

 

“Yeah, angel. This slow. Gonna make you come just like this— make you come from being fucked like you’re delicate. Gonna make love to you this way,” Bucky says, low and deep and just behind Peter’s ear, craning his neck just a bit further to bite down gently on the sensitive spot under the joint of the boy’s jaw. 

 

Peter whines but it’s more precious than petulant, and he nods, too, turning his head to make room for Bucky to bite more. 

 

The older keeps to it. He mouths at the smaller teen’s neck, not caring that the undoubtedly dark, large hickeys he’s leaving are too high.

 

(Whatever. If Peter gets embarrassed by them, Bucky will get him concealer or something— but it makes the possessives in both of them happy.) 

 

Bucky keeps it slow and steady. Even when it quickly starts to drive him crazy to be so gentle, and quite obviously makes Peter crazy too, he doesn’t speed up, doesn’t snap his hips. He takes his time “finding” (he knows exactly where the fuck it is) his boyfriend’s prostate, and when he grinds into it on each thrust, he matches the assault on the sensitive spot with a nip or lick to the boy’s marked up neck.

 

Time disappears and neither of them care.

 

All there is in the world are Peter’s needy, broken whimpers and moans, choked off sounds and long keens that steal all the air from his lungs, the boy overwhelmed with too much and not even remotely close to enough.

 

All there is in the world are Bucky’s gasps and sighs and moans, ricocheting between caught up and overloaded by the crisp, hot pleasure and melting into the steady rhythm.

 

One moment his cock is burning and the sensations are so sharp, slicing through him and bubbling like his blood has been carbonated, and he has to stop his muscles from spasming— and the next moment, he has to stop himself from melting bonelessly into the delicious heat, the way Peter massages his dick so beautifully, how the heat and pleasure feel heavy and light all at once, rolling through him and getting caught in his throat before breaking through the tension and flowing out in long moans. 

 

Peter claws at the bed under his hands and pushes his forehead against his arms, breathing erratically. Like the feelings, so so good and nowhere even remotely close to enough, build up too much pressure too fast, and snag the air as he’s trying to breathe, and he tries to contain what would be loud cries of pleasure when that hold snaps and he can let the breath out or take another in.

 

“You feel so good, you’re doin’ so good, sweetheart.” Bucky groans. Peter clenches around him and he digs the pads of his fingers in to the smaller teen’s chest, his palm still flat, definitely leaving marks. His index finger slips to the boy’s jugular notch and he lessens the pressure, though he can feel the vibration and the movement when Peter replies. 

 

“Please, Bucky p-please more, I can’t, I-” the younger is trying to grind on the bed below him, but their hips are still pulled up, so all he can really do is rub the head against the soft sheets, making a damp spot of steadily leaking precome and teasing the most sensitive underside of his tip. 

 

The older hushes him again, kissing lightly against his cheek and shoulder and the back of his neck. 

 

“You can, yes you can. Let go for me baby, just relax, ok? I’ll make you feel good. I’ll get you there,” Bucky soothes. He lets his one arm drift from Peter’s chest down to the smaller teen’s waist, and he lowers them slightly, wrapping his hand around Peter’s dick. 

 

The younger muffles a full wail against his arms as Bucky’s hand engulfs his cock, and the sound goes right to the senior’s groin, adding to his steadily, maddeningly slowly building climax. 

 

Bucky doesn’t stroke him much, just gives Peter a hand to fuck into, a hot touch to rub against as he uses his boyfriend’s hand to stroke himself. He tries to go faster, but Bucky’s rhythm of fucking him is too strong and constant and with a strangled sob Peter forces himself to fall into pace with the older boy. 

 

He slowly grinds into Bucky’s hand as his boyfriend slowly thrusts in and out of him and it’s  _ perfect _ , too soft and too slow and drives them both crazy. Every motion is so far from satisfying, an addicting, rigid spark and wave of pleasure with the movements. The two can barely even tell their orgasms are building. It feels so hot and wet, that burning, feeling like the sensation of a release, of being on fire, inside them and in their groins.

 

The senior knows it means he must be positively gushing precome inside his boyfriend, because he can feel Peter’s dick drooling pre into his hand, dripping off and onto the sheets, wet and constant and  _ so hot _ . 

 

It’s hard to tell how each sensation contributes to the fire, each spark so small and insanely far from enough, but they do— drags and thrusts and rubbing the most sensitive parts of themselves gently into each other, building and building. 

 

Finally, after who-fucking-cares how long of the slowest fucking they’ve ever had, Bucky feels the threatening, dangerous pool inside him. His orgasm begins to creep up on him and he knows he won’t last longer, and his hips stutter a little but he forces himself to keep the same, if choppy, pace. 

 

His boyfriend is too swept up in the sensations to notice him getting close. But Bucky would hate to leave the poor thing behind, so he tightens his hand, starting to actually stroke Peter, squeezing, giving him something more satisfying to fuck into. 

 

Peter starts to babble again, breathless and incoherent as he’s given more, and he tries to speed up again so Bucky loosens his grip. He doesn’t have to say anything at all. Peter, smart, _clever_ Peter, figures out very quickly that Bucky won’t give him any more than that, and he lets out the sweetest, neediest whine, sniffling and jerking sloppily into Bucky’s fist, trying to stay slow with his boyfriend’s pace in fear of losing the tightness around him. 

 

It’s that pretty sound that sends Bucky over the edge. He comes  _ hard _ , squeezing his eyes tight and biting down on Peter’s shoulder, a long groan escaping him as the rush courses through him, overloading and whiting everything out for a few seconds.

 

He milks his own climax at the same tempo, only it’s not a struggle to keep it as all of his strength is zapped away. The older teenager barely stops himself from collapsing as he rides out the high, continuing to stroke his boyfriend as he does.

 

Bucky knows his hand is so,  _ so  _ slow and light,  _ too  _ slow and far too light, but he’s unable to find the energy to give more. 

 

(And, maybe, he likes tormenting Peter like this, just a little bit, barely giving him anything and watching him drink it all up anyways, forcing him to take it like he’s breakable and fragile and making him come from that. He’s just so pretty when he’s needy and it fits, doesn’t it, that Peter  _ would  _  be able to get off from tortuously gentle fucking. God, it’s hot.)

 

The younger shudders, a cry and little whimpers and “f-fuck, please, J-Jay, hnngg” leaving him, and just when Bucky’s getting his bearings, Peter sobs out and comes into the senior’s hand. Bucky kisses him through it, neck and cheek and jaw, making his fist tighter, stroking in a steady tempo as his boyfriend stumbles into his own orgasm. 

 

When he’s done, every drop of come and sliver of pleasure wrung out of him by the older’s hand, Bucky slowly, slowly pulls out. He cleans off his hand and dick with tissues, cleans away all the come and lube he can from Peter’s hole with more tissues and smirks (internally, his face is tired now) at how many he has to use, how wet with lube and pre and release they both were. 

 

Peter lays pliant on the bed, catching his breath and squirming just a little bit, body wrecked with aftershocks and exhausted from… however long it took of the gentleness to get them both there. 

 

“So,” Bucky begins. He sits on the edge of the bed and brushes Peter’s hair away from his cheeks and forehead. “Where did that come from, by the way?” 

 

The younger just hums. “The underwear?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Peter hums again. “Jus’ like the way they make me feel.”

 

Bucky grins, bending over to pepper kisses over Peter’s shoulders. The boy turns his face as Bucky does, a dopey little grin on his lips as he leans over for a peck. 

 

“And how’s that?” 

 

“Mmm, well. They’re comfy, an’ kinda… kinda pretty, I think. Make me feel pretty, too.” Peter mumbles, more occupied with the soft little pecks he’s getting from his boyfriend than the conversation. 

 

“You’re always pretty, baby.” Bucky says quietly, one final peck before he pulls back, because they should probably get dressed and change the sheets. Peter preens at the comment and that’s worth everything in the world anyways. “So is it going to be a regular thing?” 

 

“Hm, dunno. I’ve got a couple of pairs, so..” Peter shrugs. Bucky raises his eyebrows at that. 

 

“Yeah? Tell me where, sweets.”

 

Peter opens his eyes, then, the beautiful chocolate puppy dog look gazing up at Bucky. He swallows and points to his dresser. Bucky kisses his forehead again and backs over to the dresser, pausing to pull his shorts back on (his briefs are almost definitely gross with precome) and slides open the top drawer, where Peter keeps his underwear. 

 

On the left side, partially under some plaid blue boxers, Bucky sees the lace and the definitely not-brief shape. He pulls out the top pair, rose pink colored panties with thin white lace trim. There’s a tiny little bow with a rose at the center of it on the front hem, and they’re fucking  _ cute _ , and even though he just came, teenage hormones have Bucky's dick twitching as he pulls the soft material out. 

 

He walks back over to Peter and stops to pick up the grey t-shirt on his way. The younger is on his back now, starting to push himself up on the bed. 

 

When Bucky gets there, he puts a hand on his chest to keep him down, kissing the bunched up panties in his hand and loving how Peter watches him as he does. 

 

The smaller leans back, only propped up on his forearms and lounging as Bucky guides him there. He’s so pretty like this. Bucky pecks his lips, then slides down, one hand caressing the expanse of supple skin as he makes he way to the boy’s legs.

 

Peter lets Bucky move him by the ankles and calves, sliding the panties on his legs and up, digging his heals down and lifting his hips so his boyfriend can slip the underwear to his waist. 

 

The senior pauses once the soft pink is on, kissing the little rose that falls perfectly between the v of Peter’s hips. Peter sighs in content at the affection and it’s just another in a long line of the prettiest sounds.

 

After a few seconds Bucky pulls away. He takes Peter’s hands and carefully hauls the boy up to sit fully upright, and _shit_  is he light. 

 

With Peter sitting up, Bucky can easily help him put on the t-shirt once again, still smelling like Bucky’s laundry and Peter’s soap (thanks to being removed before they got more.. physical). 

 

The older settles his hands on his boyfriend’s small middle, wrapped around his waist so he can rub his thumbs soothingly into Peter’s hips and gently knead his ass with his other fingers.

 

One more kiss to Peter’s lips. This one is longer but still gentle and the younger teen sighs a heavenly sound into it, and Bucky can’t help the contented little moan he gives before they break apart again. 

 

If he had his way he’d be kissing Peter all the time. But they have to fix the bed before May gets back. 

 

They strip the soiled sheets together and put the clean ones on, and Peter burrows himself in the fresh bedding and fuzzy blankets. Bucky dives in after him and wraps himself around the smaller boy like a koala, nuzzling his face into Peter’s neck and giving him butterfly kisses, fingers reaching around to tickle his boyfriend. 

 

Peter squirms and laughs and manages to get a blanket between them before Bucky gives up the teasing and just kisses him. 

 

Later, when they’re cuddled together, trading small kisses and talking quietly while a mixed orchestral score plays softly _(“It’s soothing, babe, it’s nice.” “Pete, you know you sound like an 80 year old right now, right?”)_ , May finally gets off her shift, arriving at the apartment and knocking on Peter’s door, peaking her head in to grin at them. 

 

He blushes bright red and promises they’ll be out soon, pretending like he’s not wearing pretty pink lingerie under the covers, and Bucky just laughs a little, squeezing Peter’s ass and pecking his nose and thinking about how much he loves this boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not be living vicariously through Bucky Barnes. Leave me alone .
> 
> What if I... updated more often? Haha just kidding.... ... unless?
> 
> oh wait I also have a tumblr now so :D @bitter-lemon-water


End file.
